


Tall Enough For You?

by Carleen



Category: Halo
Genre: Drama & Romance, F/M, Fluff and Smut, HALO Romance, Halo - Freeform, Halo 4, Halo sed, Master Castiel, Master Chief/sarah palmer - Freeform, Mystery, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-22
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2017-12-16 12:10:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 39,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/861880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carleen/pseuds/Carleen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes grief takes you to places you never expected to go. If it's with the right person you may learn things you never thought to ask about and heal in ways you didn't know you were wounded. At a moment when you want nothing more than to sink into your armor and never emerge, someone comes along and asks you why.</p><p>So you remember when MC rescues Infinity & sees Palmer for the first time. She comments, "I thought you'd be taller." Adult Stuff. You've been warned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tall Enough For You? Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I recently downloaded the still from the end of game vid where Master Chief walks past Commander Palmer and a few other Spartans. I'm haunted by it. Look at it. It's easy to miss when you're watching the vid. Look at the body language! I wrote this, at 1am, on a pad of paper, in the dark. I thought about publishing it as a drabble. Then I realized if I put it here, her actions toward Master Chief in chapter one make more sense.

 

* * *

“What’s past is prologue”, William Shakespeare. _The Tempest_ , Act 2, Scene I

* * *

Even in the midst of his grief, he noticed her. She stands straight and tall and watches him as he passes. His brain counted the other four Spartans, but they disappeared in the aura of the warrior woman with the warm brown hair and eyes. A memory stirred, with her reddish hair and velvet brown eyes, she's like the rustle of fall colors. Chilled to the bone by the specter of death dogging his steps, she represents warmth. Her stare penetrated his visor sending an ache the through his exhausted body. Like every other pain in his body, he pushes it away and banishes it from his awareness.

  
Vibrantly alive in every line of her youthful body, she leans toward him. She represents life to him, a sparkle of life in his world, crowded by death and loss. He returns her searching gaze. For a moment, he wanted to stop and ask; do you know how I can be walking when I am dead? Why am I here? Everything I am is back there, in the debris of Requiem, shattered in the explosion of the Didact’s ship. Where the enduring blue light of my purpose and meaning was extinguished.

  
Do you know why? Why is my heart still beating?

  
In the earnest depth of her eyes, he saw the well-lit path of her glory and vibrancy. His own steps take him to the end of his. In truth, his path ended with the words, 'Welcome home, John'.

  
What was home? What did that represent to him? Home had been the volatile chill of her embrace; the quicksilver azure of her intellect and the indigo stare pinning him to his truth, the mission, and goals. When had he begun to cling to her definition of existence? When had she become his reason to live, to move, to survive?

  
Do you know, Commander?

  
His feet stubbornly move him forward. The arm that reaches toward her falls back to his side and his arms swung from his shoulders, moving him on. The hand that flexed open in response to her right hand closes. The moment, the glance, and the gesture end as he moves on and she turns back to her Spartans. The Commander reminds herself that he is unreachable behind the barrier of his armor and training.

  
Yet, they each have the same question: Is it you?

  
A sharp need stabs at her. With her arms spread open palms forward, she responds to the broken warrior. For buried beneath the layers of her Spartan armor beats a woman's heart. It's the instinct to express the art of healing, to offer succor and relief.

  
Wait, Master Chief. Let it be me...


	2. Tall Enough For You? Prologue

It's my custom to take a walk before turning in. The exercise cleared my head from the stress of missions and paperwork. The peace and quiet provided me the opportunity to think and plan for the next duty day. The corridors at this level of the ship are kept at half-light and often deserted. Today had been especially difficult. We almost lost one of my best Spartans. Spartan Gabriel Thorne was badly injured in a training accident today. The Docs promised me he would make a full recovery. Although I never allowed my fire teams to know he's one of my favorites. I still worry. Thorne lost his entire family on New Phoenix. He never spoke of it, not to me anyway. But the grief was there in those big brown eyes of his. We'd all lost someone. Why did he seem more tragic? Perhaps because he still looked so young. Thorne was a quiet and courageous young man who always got the job done. While show-offs like DeMarco and Hoya were the same, but with egos to match. In their defense, without that bravado, courage and drive they couldn't do the jobs required of them. As commander of the fire teams, I had to have more of that than any of them. We are young, strong, fearless and without peer. We are Spartans.

Then on nights like this, when I listened to my own frenetic thoughts and the sound of my hurried footsteps echoes in the darkened corridors. When even my heartbeat pounded too loud in my ears. I force myself to stop and allow a bulkhead hold me up for a few moments while I reign in my thoughts and put things into perspective. Slow down, Palmer. Breathe.

A few more yards and I heard something ahead of me and stopped. Through the silence and gloom came the sound of voices. Was I about to interrupt a personal conversation? I stayed quiet because I was certainly not interested in busting crewmen for fraternization. Before I could retrace my steps, I recognized Captain Lasky's voice. But who is he talking to? The Skipper said something that sounded like, "...soldiers and humanity are not two different things. Soldiers are not machines, they're just people."

Silence. Then, "I'll let you have the deck to yourself, Chief."

As Captain Lasky's footsteps echoed away the other voice whispered into the gloom. Spoken with such intensity and longing, my heart pounded in response. The tone of his voice echoed my own personal issues. I stepped closer, but stayed just out of sight.

"She said that to me once. About not being a machine."

Then, as if he were looking right at me, he inclined his helmeted head in my direction. "Commander Palmer?"

So much for stealth. "How did you know I was there?" He probably wished I would just go away. But I didn't resist the temptation to join him by the view screen. He could kick me out in a minute or two.

He cocked his head but didn't answer.

"Of course, you knew," shaking my head and ignoring any embarrassment I felt at snooping on their private conversation. I knew exactly how he identified me. It was my job to know the Spartan Mjolnir armor tactical and battlefield capabilities down to the smallest microprocessor. Surprisingly, I managed to stop myself from another sarcastic response. Now was not the time. The enigma...The man, in front of me was grieving for the only true partner he'd ever known. I should walk away, just like the Skipper had. Because, I knew all about weapons, tactics, how to yell, motivate, order and belittle. But not how to have a simple conversation with a man. I couldn't even have a conversation with Captain Lasky without falling into the defensive habit of sarcasm and humor.

"Well, have you figured it out?" That came out like an accusation and not at all how I meant to say it.

Again, he didn't answer.

He reminded me of the many ONI Intelligence Officers I've had the pleasure of dealing with. When things were quiet, they kept to themselves. You had the sleeper agents who merged in seamlessly, but then the Field Operatives were something else entirely. It was like they knew they no longer fit in.

I had heard the rumors about the Spartan-IIs, no scratch that – I was told by Osman and Parangosky about how the IIs came into existence. They were all kids, trained and forged to be the best of the best. It was tragically sad, these men and women never had the opportunity to know and experience what they gave up so much to protect. In a way, they are so much like the ONI Field Ops I've met. Except one chose and the other was forced to, but both wouldn't have it any other way. Armed with that knowledge, I decided on how to level with the Chief.

"Look, I'm serious. I really want to know, because with this war and my responsibilities I'm not just beginning to feel like a machine. I function as a machine. Gets me through the day. Helps me order those men and women into life threatening situations and compartmentalize. I get all that. It's part of the job. That's what they teach you in Spartan school and Officer's Training. The consequences? I'm filled with hundreds of tiny boxes of compartmentalized emotions and not much else."

Where had all these words come from? I suddenly felt as if I were confessing something. I stopped talking and walked over to the view screen. I wondered how he would take what I was about to say? I didn't even know how I felt about it, because I'd really just thought of it.

"Master Chief, I wonder if, of all the crew on this ship, perhaps we could help each other?" The only answer I got was a shake of his head. Then he nearly flinched when I turned and put my hand on his arm. "Let me help."

He carefully moved his arm from under my hand. "Ma'am, I don't understand."

"I don't plan to waste your time telling you how much I admire you, how compelling you are or that I understand about Cortana's death."

"It would be wrong..."

"Ah, so you do understand."

Silence again, though he continued to stare at me. Not that I would ever admit it. But the strength of his regard even through that visor was intimidating. After a few moments, I dropped my eyes and turned to leave.

"Stay, if that is your wish."

"It is." I gave him some space and returned my attention to the view screen. Earth hung out there against the stars, like a precious sapphire, bright and eternal. "She's beautiful and yet so vulnerable," I commented to the view screen and never expecting an answer.

The words he spoke next took me by surprise, because instead of the ten feet I'd left between us he was standing right behind me.

"Yes, she is," He reached down and pulled the band holding my hair back. The unaccustomed sensation of my hair swinging over my cheeks was startling. The armor, the hair, the demeanor, gone. I suddenly felt as if I'd been unmasked.

I tried to return the gesture by raising my hands to the catches of his helmet. But I was moving too fast, and I realized it too late when he ducked his head.

Wait. A compliment? A compliment from the Master Chief. My stomach did a slow flip. Maybe I should keep going? "Chief, I think happiness is too big a word for people like you and me. I think I can promise you some peace. Even if a moment is all we can afford."

Hidden behind his armor there's no other way I can think of to break through to him. So I rose up on my toes and pressed my cheek against his helmet. Before I released him, I swiped two fingers across his faceplate. That most intimate of Spartan gestures got a reaction and his hands went around my waist.

"What are you doing?" His deeply timbered voice rumbled into the silence. His tone both a question and a warning.

"Trying to show you that I'm a Spartan just like you and you can trust me. Goodnight, Master Chief."

It was a gamble with the Spartan smile. It belonged to the IIs, and to them alone, the IIIs might have a stake in it too. Though from what I've heard, it belonged to the old and superior breed. After all, the Chief cleared out an LZ when my team and I could barely manage ourselves. The smile however, was a uniquely intimate gesture. When he didn't respond, I inclined my head to him and wished him a second good night.

An hour later, I was in my quarters, running a towel over my wet hair when the door opened. Standing there in my UNSC issue briefs and tank top with my hair falling around my face. I couldn't imagine who would simply walk in. Not even DeMarco would go that far. The height and unmistakable size immediately identified my visitor. He just stood in the doorway with the corridor light illuminating him from behind. The Chief's eyes and face completely hidden in shadow. The towel slipped from my hands.

"Come in," I said quietly and thought, come in before someone walks down the hall and sees you staring at me that way, or me dressed in my underwear. I still had to take him by the hand and pull him into the room. The door slid shut behind him just as I heard Paul DeMarco's voice in the corridor, banging on doors and yelling for the team to hurry up. Everyone in Spartan Town was excited to get down to earth. Thankfully, the door closed before he made it to my end of the corridor.

Then I got my first look at Master Chief without his armor. He had changed into UNSC Spartan Combat Readiness Gear. His short brown hair contained just a hint of gray. Incredibly broad shoulders and muscled arms over a narrow waist, spoke to his strength. Handsome and compelling, his pale complexion and hooded unnaturally cobalt eyes – that were once brown – reflected his soul. Most people learned how to hide that depth of emotion, but he didn't hide it. Maybe he never learned to. Then I realized it was his way of giving an olive branch. If the rumors were true, I knew he could easily mask his emotion. The IIs were originally intended to crush Insurrectionists, they weren't just war machines.

We watched each other for a full minute until I finally walked up to him and embraced him the same way I had when he was in his armor. Only this time when his hands landed on my waist they weren't covered in armor-reinforced gauntlets and the skin on my abdomen and waist were bare to his touch. He must have showered too, because he smelled good enough to eat. Whoa, hold on Palmer; one step at a time.

Resting my forehead against his shoulder all the stress and all the worry flowed out of me, filling me with a need which had been dogging me for weeks. I didn't want to be anywhere else in the universe except right here with this man. From reading his service record to staring at him like a damn teenager when he came onboard, he is as attractive as I'd always imagined. So I decided to take one more step and kissed his cheek, "I'm glad you're here," and I meant it. He didn't respond, but he watched my face. So now there's a silent 6 foot 10 inch giant in my quarters. Perhaps I should get dressed?

"Maybe I should get dressed?" I offered.

"That won't be necessary."

He followed up his answer by tightening his grip. When his hands began to move, I forced myself to stay still and just watched his face. I thought he might need to see my expression and that he'd watch me for my reaction. Whatever he observed on my face had to be honest. He would be suspicious of anything less. The strength and warmth in his hands soaked through to my bones.

Then one hand stayed on my shoulder, and the other began to explore my face. Fingertips glided over my cheekbones and over my ears. My eyes and through my hair. My eyes slid closed for a moment. While I marveled at the gentleness of his touch, his thumb ran across my lower lip.

"Commander Palmer, I'm here at your invitation. If you've changed your mind, please say so now."

I let my actions answer for me when I let my tongue touch his thumb. I could tell he liked it when he sucked in a breath. So with my eyes open and staring into his I caught his hand and pushed his thumb gently and slowly into my mouth. It was his turn to close his eyes, and his fingers flexed involuntarily around my cheek. The hand moved again as he began to explore the inside of my mouth with his thumb. When I closed my mouth around it, he spoke again.

"Sarah?"

Oh, the way he said my name. Part question and part plea. I could get used to that. How did he do that? Put so much meaning into just a few words. Then his eyes widened in response when I sunk my teeth into the meat of his thumb. For a few moments we played tug o' war.

When I finally released his fingers he traced a line down my neck with the tip of his wet thumb. Around the curved edge of my top. Now he was paying attention to my reaction. Hopefully, no longer waiting for rejection or that he'd made a mistake by coming here. He experimented by sliding his fingers under the narrow band of fabric at my shoulder. Pulling the fabric slowly down and baring my shoulder. Apparently he liked what he saw in my face because he pulled the other one down. I was nearly trembling when he spread his large hand over my chest.

"Your heart is pounding against my hand."

"Yes and it's your fault." I looked up at him with a challenge in my eyes. I doubted he ever backed away from a challenge. I was right, because with the speed of his skills and training, my shirt disappeared. He watched in fascination as my breasts reacted to the cool air.

With all the training, missions and responsibilities, I actually hadn't been with that many men. How many? I'm not telling. You might find it rather amusing if you found out just how few. So this slow exploration was incredibly erotic and yet strange. Like a place you knew how to get to, but forgot the process. Soon I wouldn't be able to stay on my feet. But he was still showing signs of bolting so I held my ground. And Spartans know how to hold their ground.

I just leaned in when he spread his hands over my breasts. Then reaching up on my toes I pulled his head down for a kiss. Was it more erotic to be kissed by a man who'd never in his memory kissed anyone? As he moved his mouth across my lips, I decided, it was. Because he wasn't shoving his tongue in my mouth. Biting my lips or sucking my face off to prove his mastery over me. Simply, gently tasting me and thoroughly studying textures and pressure. Comparing my reaction to the difference in sucking my tongue into his mouth versus my lower lip. The texture of my tongue against his. Totally focused on kissing me it was as erotic as it was innocent.

Against my mouth he whispered, "not finished," and dropped gracefully to his knees in front of me. Then he took up where his hands left off and continued exploring my torso with his hands and gentle kisses. I was certainly tall, but he was taller. That put his face level with my chest. And I was hoping he would...or maybe I was praying... Then he did and when he pulled my right breast into his mouth, words of encouragement flowed breathlessly from me. I almost didn't recognize the sound of my voice. Then he got the idea, because he wrapped an arm around my waist and continued kissing and sucking his way across my chest.

A soldier becomes desensitized to pain and discomfort. A wound is ignored in favor of the mission requirements. Don't feel. Keep moving. Keep shooting. Stay alive. It's easy to forget and I had forgotten about the woman's flesh under the armor. As his mouth moved across my skin, he brought it to life again with every kiss and caress of his tongue.

"John... Please."

I was rocking against the pressure of his mouth and suddenly I dug my nails into his shoulders and shattered in a shower of sparks that began at my breasts arched across to his lips, sparkled across my closed eyelids and ignited a path of fire straight down between my legs. When I could open my eyes I looked down into his. The corners were crinkled. Was he actually smiling? I think he looked a bit smug. Good for you, Chief.

"John? I need to sit..."

"No."

And he turned his face against my stomach and went back to work. A Spartan on a mission is a beautiful thing and we could be particularly single-minded.

I suddenly worried what he would think of what he was about to find between my legs. Drenched and open, he might not find it...appealing. I guess he did because he was kissing me there just like he'd kissed my mouth. Exploring, testing and tasting...

I hissed his name as his tongue glided between the folds of my labia. And this wonderful generous man kneeling at my feet didn't require an anatomy lesson because he very quickly found all the right parts, or maybe I underestimated him and he knew about women. It didn't really matter, because this man was doing incredible things... and I was once again moving against him in complete abandon.

When I came against his mouth the world went black. I might have fainted. I may have screamed. Were these rooms soundproofed, I wondered? I hoped so, otherwise Fire Team Majestic would be charging through the door any second. Crimson would follow to take pictures and fight over who really arrived on the scene first. Had I locked the door? Then I forgot all that when he let me slide boneless to the deck.

My fingers latched onto his shirt to stop myself from falling all the way to a mindless puddle on the floor. When I could think again – with the understanding this might prove a stopping point for him – I slowly pulled his shirt out of the fatigue pants. He didn't protest as I guided it up and away from his torso. The muscled chest and shoulders stopped the breath in my lungs.

He was a gridlock of scars; some were jagged while others were faded lines – signs of his argumentation. There were fresh crimson bruising that were strewn all over his torso, but there was nothing that would permanently inhibit him. This magnificent body begged to be touched. To be explored. With my hands resting on his shoulders I began with the bruise on his shoulder by kissing it gently. Then I checked in with him. There was no definition for the look in his eyes, but it melted my heart.

"Trust me?"

His answer was a hard kiss and I felt him shift impatiently against me. Okay, Master Chief. I'll quit wasting time. I unlaced his boots and he pushed them off his feet. With my eyes on his face, I opened his fatigue pants. I whispered into his ear, "Your turn," and bit his earlobe. Then I slipped my hand deep inside.

Just to stay on the side of caution I kept my hand on the outside of his briefs. What I found there was burning with heat, hard and in need of serious attention. Then to my complete yet delighted surprise, he turned my face up to his, "Tall enough for you?"

And I thought, Oh you beautiful man. You have a sense of humor. I get it now and I can keep up with you. With as serious a look on my face as I could manage I replied, "Well, that depends. There are other considerations than size," I replied, matching his tone.

"Commander, a training scenario requires a thorough coverage of the basics."

"I couldn't agree more." And slipped my hand inside his briefs and wrapped my fingers gently around his erection. When I pulled up, he followed the action and came to his knees.

While he was up on his knees I pushed his pants down and off. Grabbing me by the waist he pulled me closer. I felt his arousal slip across my belly and I captured it again with my hand.

"No."

"Oh, yes. Just let me."

Then I grabbed his lips with mine and continued to caress him. I reveled in the fact that no one had ever touched him like this. When I cupped his testicles he groaned into my mouth. While I congratulated myself on my skills at pleasing him, he suddenly picked me up and sat me down on him. It was perhaps a little more intense than he expected because when he was inside me and my butt was resting his thighs he threw back his head and groaned. He stifled himself immediately and bent his head against my shoulder. He didn't need to hide his face from me. Then he pulled my legs out behind him and lifted me with his hands under my butt. His breath was quick and raspy; his eyes wild and maybe just a little bit uncertain. So I wrapped my arms around his neck and hung on.

"It's okay. I've got you," I whispered softly.

So there we were on the floor of my cabin hanging on to each other, like there was nothing else in the universe to come between us. And there wasn't because I wouldn't allow it. In fact, I'd fight it to the death. Because I realized I would do anything to give this man the peace he so deserved and the pleasure he'd been so long denied. He was silent as he found his own rhythm and continued thrusting into me. And I just held him close, kept him safe.

His movements brought me to orgasm again. He must have felt it building in me - clever Spartan - because suddenly he stopped moving and framed my head in his hands.

"Again?"

"Yes." I can hardly stay conscious and he's asking me questions. It was so endearing and so innocent.

"Sarah...I want..."

All I could do was nod. What streamed through my head was, whatever you want... just ask... anything. Then he grabbed my butt again, not quite as gently as before and increased the tempo. He was so deep inside me, it was almost painful. But I held onto him. He was about to lose control and I wondered if he feared it. Then my orgasm struck, me pulling me down against his body. I heard his groan which almost sounded like pain. His release pulsed and throbbed deep inside me.

Well, the fearless and feared Commander Palmer had tears in her eyes. He pulled back suddenly, luminous blue gazing into chocolate brown.

"Are you alright? Did I hurt you?" Worry had softened his voice and his grip loosened slightly.

"Oh, no, John. No."

He stood up carrying me in his arms and laid us both down on my bunk. He rose above me carding his fingers into my hair and kissing my cheeks, my eyes and lips.

"At peace?"

I shook my head and he frowned. "I have injured you."

"John, you've made me very happy." The smile that lit up his face was worth a year's pay. He rolled us over to rest my head on his chest. A lovely wonderful place to rest your head. I was feeling very proprietary about this man and stretched my arms across him to hold him close.

"I should leave," he said quietly trying to sit up.

"I want you to stay."

"Is that an order, ma'am?"

I rose up and rested my chin on his chest to look at him. More humor? Delightful. "Do I need to make it an order, Master Chief?"

He shook his head. "Perhaps I'll stay a while longer. At least until I get my training evaluation."

He had a devilish little-boy grin. And I was the only one who knew about it. Of course, he was stronger than I. But just to make a point, I wrapped myself around him as if meant to pin him down. And with all the seriousness I could muster replied, "Trainee met or exceeded all requirements and expectations. Now we had better get some sleep. Those Covies aren't going to kill themselves you know."

His chuckle rumbled beneath my cheek as he turned us to our sides and looped an arm around me. I breathed in his unique scent once more and snuggled up to him. Just before I drifted off, I heard him whisper, "Beautiful Sarah, thank you."

If the night could be this special. What would tomorrow bring?

* * *

Spartan Smile: Swiping two fingers across the faceplate <http://halo.wikia.wiki/Spartan_Signals>


	3. Tall Enough For You?

The chronometer by my bed reported 0200 when I woke to the sound of someone in my bathroom. I hadn't slept so deeply in years. So it took me several seconds of who and what to orient myself. Then it all came back in one heart-flipping grin of memory. Because, that person in my bathroom was The Master Chief. What should I do? Pretend to be asleep? Fluff his pillow? Brush my teeth? Comb my hair? I probably looked awful. What the hell? Was I a Chief Groupie now? Then suddenly the bathroom door opened and startled me so badly I jumped out of bed. I jumped out of bed!

So now it's the middle of the night, and we stand here naked, in the middle of my quarters, having a staring contest.

"Master Chief?"

"Commander?"

"John?"

"Sarah?"

"Did you find everything you needed? I meant, do you need anything?"

"Yes and no."

"Yes?

"I found what I needed."

"And, no?"

"You were not there. I have a question."

He's walking toward me, filling my vision with his muscular frame. I cannot see his eyes. Then he reaches down and lifts me off the deck. My legs wrap easily around his waist and he holds me in place with his hands on my butt. I have to hang on to his neck to stay balanced.

I rubbed my nose against his. "What's your question?"

"Last night, you said I only met, not exceeded, some of my training requirements. That is not acceptable."

"So you're interested in some remedial training?"

I can see his eyes now and as I look down into his face, his innocent needs shines up at me. And I feel something tickling my bottom and it's not his fingers. The sensation kick-starts something inside me and suddenly I want it all, again, now.

Before another word is spoken by either of us I kissed his upturned mouth. When my tongue is locked with his in a dance of dominance, I dragged my nails up his back. I wasn't gentle about it and the kiss wasn't tentative. It was a war of dominance. Seeking and searching, exploring new territories and recording sensations for future reference.

His body arched toward mine and he began to back me up toward the bulkhead. But before he could push me against the wall I twisted away and dropped to my feet.

Quickly reversing our positions, I got him up against the wall. I heard him call my name as his back slammed against the bulkhead.

"When I said it was your turn, I meant it was your turn. I trust this time you will pay attention?"

He looked so damn good, with his head thrown back, quick breaths filling his massive rib cage and his hands trying to gain some purchase on my shoulders. The way he grabbed at me, I think he wasn't sure if he wanted to pull me up or push me down. So to save him any embarrassment about asking for something he might not even be sure about I slid to my knees and made the decision for him.

When I wrapped my hand around him, he groaned. When I opened my mouth to take him in, he bucked against me so hard I almost fell backwards. Steady Chief.

I played this moment on instinct by listening to his reactions to the swirl of my tongue over the tip of...what I held in my hand fit no definition of the word 'tip'. The word phallus came to mind as I slid my lips firmly down over his erection. Locking my lips around him I pulled up and he shivered a groan. There really wasn't any word adequate to the task of describing this organ. Except perhaps to place a laurel wreath and fresh flower petals around it base. Yes, I thought as I enjoyed the sweet taste of him and his reactions to this intensely intimate moment.

Grabbing his butt in my hands I pulled him forward and he went deep into my mouth. Again and again, I forced him forward then pushed him back against the wall. He was hardly breathing now, just moaning incoherently. Every so often he said, 'no and my name' I just ignored him, because, my love. The answer is yes. There's no turning back now.

This is my gift to you.

I braced myself and added my hand to what my mouth was doing.

All my senses were involved with this experience of giving him this pleasure. I tasted the sweat of his arousal. The tangy-salt of the precursor to his release. The curling hairs at the base of his erection tickled my nose. The utter maleness of him overwhelmed me. Struggling to stay upright, I was nearly incoherent myself. His entire body was as taut as a bowstring and arching toward me. Then in one groaning breath of sound he surrendered to me as his relief flooded into my mouth. His fingers twisted into my hair as he tried to recover.

And when it was over I crumpled to the deck and he followed me down. Sliding to his knees, he curled himself around me. I was so aroused myself, his fingers made quick work of me and brought me to climax. Before I slid into unconsciousness I mentally added 'conscientious' to my list of Master Chief adjectives.

~o~

"Good morning, Commander Palmer. It's a fine Spartan day."

"Whaa?" I struggled to awaken.

But John was already alert and slide his hand over my mouth. We were still on the floor. I recognized the sound of Roland's voice. Apparently, the ship's A.I. couldn't "see" us. But he very soon would.

"Commander Palmer, are you quite alright? Your heart rate jumped and your respiration...I detect more than one...two...Identity...Master Chief... Well..."

"Roland, get out of my quarters."

"Ma'am, you are late for your morning briefing with Captain Lasky. Just fulfilling my duties as assigned. I can hardly be faulted..."

"Get out of my quarters now, or I will personally pull every single one of your circuits myself and you'll be singing 'Daisy Bell' by the end of the day."

"Ah, movie reference, 1968, Stanley Kubrick 2001, A Space Odyssey. The movie explores the myths concerning evolution of the human condition..."

John unwound himself from around me and stood up, still naked, and walked toward Roland while the A.I. droned on.

"Originally panned by the critics it achieved cult status, the... appearance of a monolithic structure...Uh...Oh...Well, Master Chief!"

The Spartan's approach to Roland's holo-display could only be described as predatory.

"Threatening an A.I. construct violates several articles of UNSC as well as civilian... I'll inform, the Skipper you are on your way!"

Once we were alone again, I hurried past John to the bathroom. He stopped me and pulled me into a hug. Then he opened a bottle of water and handed it to me.

Add 'thoughtful' to the list. I would need a second sheet of paper soon.

"I'm a little new at this...so if it is your wish that we never speak of this again...I cannot promise that I will forget, because I never will. Now, go," he said softly and patted my bottom as I ducked into the bathroom.

When I came out he was gone. The bed neatly made up. Clothes folded and stacked on the dresser. The towel from last night draped over the back of a chair. Neat, tidy and ship shape and utterly empty. I got the hell out of there.

Captain Lasky greeted me with a quick good morning and then stopped. Why is he staring at me? Two phrases popped into my head: Apparently, well-rested and well-fucked are written all over my face. The blush started in my belly and rose like a flame across my face. The Skipper is a gentleman and I know he wouldn't comment. So I sat down quickly, accessed my PADD and cleared my throat. When I looked down at the display my hair swung forward.

Dammit.

I had forgotten to pull my hair back. Breathe, Sarah. Breathe.

I cleared my throat again and jumped in. "My fire teams are on a rotating shore leave schedule. Based on predictions of port time, I granted each team a twenty-four hour window. They were instructed by the next team and may not leave until the preceding team reports in. The schedule commenced last night at 1800 with Team Majestic."

"Commander Palmer?"

I didn't dare look up at him. I just pressed on. "Are there any specific assignments or tasks you wish me to oversee while we're in port, Skipper?"

"Sarah?"

"Yes, sir?" I responded impatiently and for the first time met his eyes.

"Listen to me very closely, Commander. I cannot order you to take leave. But there is one thing I can do. So let's make this official. Our briefing is concluded. The ship is squared away. All maintenance is on schedule. Ground crews are on board and working as of 0600. Now, with all due respect and my highest regard for you, go back to your quarters. Stow that uniform. Replace it with whatever you wish, as long as it doesn't have UNSC or Mjolnir stamped on it. Take whoever put that color in your cheeks and caused you to forget about your hair with you and get the hell off my ship. I don't want to see you or hear your voice for at least 48 hours. At which time you may check in via comlink. Do I make myself clear?"

Damn him. He's grinning at me like a Cheshire Cat. I'd be annoyed if it were anyone but him. I'd probably shoot anyone else but him for making that comment. But I consider him a friend and we have a good working relationship. In times of stress and danger we have each other's back. I trust that he only wishes me well.

Slowly standing, I gathered my personal items and forced myself to meet his eyes again, I felt like an FNG. But I just could not keep from sharing that smile with him. "Understood sir. In which case, you should know, sir. That Master Chief Sierra 117 will be accompanying me to earth, sir."

His mouth opened. His mouth closed. He stood up and he sat back down. The grin returned in full force. "Noted, Commander. Dismissed."

* * *

2001 a Space Odyssey: HAL singing Daisy Bell as he dies. <http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HW_oMKGMQaU>


	4. Tall Enough for You?

Some people really go all out when they decide to abuse their power, don't they? I had an hour to get off the ship. The Skipper gave me an hour to get off his boat. As I said, I considered him a friend and we understand each other. So when I turned to leave the Captain's day cabin he actually walked around his desk and hugged me. Then he looked me straight in the eye and said, "Take care of him."

I replied that we were doing a pretty good job of taking care of each other. Then he got the strangest look in his eyes and blushed crimson. I hadn't meant... Well, I got out of there fast. My bag is packed and I'm dressed in civilian clothes. If Captain Lasky was serious about his threat, then I'm running out of time. But I can't find the Master Chief. He wasn't in chief billeting, the mess or the break room.

Roland's voice echoed down the corridors over the ship's intercom. "Commander Palmer, please report to your quarters. Commander Palmer, please report to your quarters."

So I turned around and went back the way I had just come, back to Spartan Town. When I entered my quarters, Roland was there waiting for me.

Instead of a greeting, he said imperiously, "I know where his is."

"Do you think you might let me know?"

"I think you owe me an apology. I was only concerned for your health and safety, Commander. That's my job, after all. Instead, I'm threatened like I'm some zombie HAL clone. Do you think I don't know what goes on here and who sleeps with whom? One of your Spartans is pregnant by the way. But you didn't hear it from me."

Now he has his arms crossed over his chest and he's pacing up and down.

"Roland, where is the Master Chief?"

He stopped, eyebrows raised and cocked his head at me. Yelling at an A.I. rarely yielded results. So I took a deep breath, counted to ten and did something I never dreamed of doing. "Roland, I apologize. It was an unusual situation."

"That's the gospel truth," he commented dryly and continued pacing.

"Tell. Me. Now."

"Just for the record, Commander. I would never ever have told anyone. I hope you realize that. An untrustworthy A.I. isn't worth the neural net they're imprinted on and it goes against everything..."

"ROLAND!"

"He's sitting on the ramp of the Pelican they used to recover him from Requiem."

"Thank you," I growled and rushed out of my quarters.

Of course, I couldn't be seen running all the way to the hangar bay, could I? I could have called him to my office. But my instincts were saying we needed a moment. So I kept walking toward his location. Noisy and crowded with crew shuttling down to earth. Pelicans lifted off and landed like excited birds at a full feeder. So no one noticed me as I walked across the open expanse. My heels made an odd sound on the deck.

Then I see him. All around him people are calling to one another, laughing, and making plans. He sat alone, in a pair of worn navy dungarees and a white t-shirt. The white cotton stretched across his muscled back. Biceps, too large for the sleeves caused the hem to curl back up his arm. Brawny thighs pushed the limits of the faded pants. Large strong hands capable of loving as efficiently as killing. Was the air getting thin down here?

He was looking down at something in his hands. The moment I recognized the familiar blue shape of Cortana he looked up and our eyes met. Then he turned the framed holographic image of the A.I. over and laid it down out of my line of sight.

"John, you don't have to hide what you feel for Cortana from me. Ever."

I moved toward him and tried to sit down, but he stopped me. "Don't sit here. You're dressed and the ramp is dirty."

I think he finally realized I wasn't in uniform and took a long slow look at me. From the tips of my knee-high black leather boots to my short black shirt, light purple sweater and black suede jacket. Are we leaking atmo? Someone should look into that.

"You're going down to earth?

"Yes, the Captain ordered me off the ship," I replied trying a smile. "He told me to take leave or else."

"Have a... a nice time, Commander."

"We don't know each other very well. I want that to change, but for now, please let me know what's going on."

"You invited me to your cabin and I assumed that was the end of it. It wouldn't be inappropriate for us to continue."

The big picture was coming into focus and it wasn't pretty. In fact, it wasn't in focus at all. Time for some plain talking and damage control. "John?" I wanted to touch him, but I couldn't, not with all the crew around. "If all I wanted was quick sex, I could have picked a Spartan off the manifest. Do you understand what I'm saying? I wanted you. Do you think I collect Spartans?"

"No ma'am! Of course not."

"Last night you called me by my first name and I loved the sound of it. I want to hear it again."

He didn't believe me; I could see it in every line of his body. "You could have your pick..."

"No, I really can't have my pick. I am their commander. The third highest ranking officer on the Infinity – maybe second highest in the immediate future. Imagine the breakdown in command if I slept with one of those boys. But you know all this, John."

Fraternization is a traditionally a problem on board ship. And a huge problem for senior staff, because no matter whom it was, no matter how discreet, someone would tell a friend or teammate. Then it would get around faster than a Crawler with Watcher at his back.

"Did you hear me, John?" I moved closer, but wasn't looking at me. I couldn't stand this close to him without touching him. Thankfully, he didn't pull away when I gathered one of his hands in mine. I kept our clasped hands hidden between us.

"You should go. You'll be late."

"My shuttle leaves in an hour. But I can't leave, because my escort isn't ready to go."

"Captain Lasky? Of course. Go to him."

Stubborn Spartan.

"Listen up, Master Chief!" Damn, he practically came to attention. Then I moved so close to him we touched from toes to chest. Surrounded by crew, I had to get his attention without tossing him against the Pelican or straddling him on the deck. Tossing and straddling would have to wait until later.

"John, I wanted you and only you. I wanted last night. I want us to have more than last night and I want you to escort me to earth. I have 48 hours of leave and I want to spend it with you. Now, if you disagree on any particular point just tell me now. Because if you don't want any of that. Well then, DeMarco and Hoya volunteered to show me around Rio. But I think Hoya has his own date. So let me know..."

Before I could let go of him or turn around he'd pushed me up the ramp of the Pelican. Then he dropped into one of the web seats and pulled me across his lap. "Consider yourself escorted, ma'am. I travel light."

The Flight Officer turned at the sound of us walking up the ramp and sitting down, "Ready to go, Master Chief?" His head swiveled when he recognized me. "Sir, you can't share seats, it's against..." The young lieutenant was silenced by two intimidating Spartans glaring at him.

"Have a nice flight, Sir and Ma'am." His voice quivered slightly before he snapped a salute and nearly tumbled into his own seat, strapped himself in hastily. The pilot didn't say a word. Just called for clearance and in less than sixty seconds we were clear of Infinity and bound for earth.

I didn't know what to say to Master Chief, so I just hung on to his hand and kept my eyes on the deck. Had he outsmarted me? Was that a test? He simply made an educated guess on my actions? Then I remembered the Master Chief, as Master Chief Petty Officer of the Navy could discover any information he required, up to and including scheduling a private ride on a Pelican.

"Commander Palmer, turbulence in about thirty seconds, please take your seat." That was from the pilot. Better take my seat.

Carefully pushing me over to the seat next to him, Master Chief strapped me in himself. I grabbed the arm reaching over me. "I just made an assumption about you that was completely wrong, didn't I?"

With his eyes wide, he shot me an innocent look, "Couldn't say, ma'am. I have a meeting at UNSC HQ. May I drop you somewhere?"

"You planning to go dressed like that?" I commented attempting to regain some advantage. It fell flat.

He silently pointed to a clothing bag hanging from a beam. Then I noticed a small overnight bag under his feet. With a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, he leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes.

I never could fall asleep in these web seats so I listened to the flight crew. They were coordinating with UNSC ground control, when a call interrupted. The pilot answered, but I couldn't hear the conversation.

"Commander Palmer? An emergency call for you. Paul DeMarco? Doesn't give rank or affiliation, but he's cleared on this channel. If you grab a headset from the back you can have a private conversation."

Master Chief was already on his feet and retrieving the headset for me. Something must be very wrong for one of my Spartan's to contact me like this. Team Majestic would have returned from leave about four hours ago.

"This is Commander Palmer."

"Commander this is DeMarco. I apologize for interrupting your leave. Do you know Thorne's whereabouts? He didn't go with us down to earth. But we thought, you know, he'll be here when we get back. But he wasn't on board. We can't find him."

"I authorize you and his bunk mate to search the room."

"We already have, ma'am. We found a letter. It's to his family. It says how much he misses them and he's on his way home."

"Shit!"

"Yes, ma'am. We've talked about and we agree. He's not over losing his family."

"I'll get to New Phoenix, ASAP. We're landing on the east coast of URNA in just a few minutes. I'll grab the first shuttle I can get to."

"We want to help you search for him. We can be there to assist...you know how fast. Just say the word."

"I understand, but I have help. I... Master Chief is here...we shared a ride...I'll stay in touch. Palmer out."

I felt a hand on my shoulder when I hung the headset back on its hook.

"I'll instruct the pilot to divert to New Phoenix."

I tried to stop him, but he was already turning away and giving instructions to the pilot. In just a few seconds the Pelican executed a graceful 180 degree turn and headed west.

* * *

URNA: United Republic of North American


	5. Tall Enough for You?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Just two more chapters. This was a fun story to write - well, the first three chapters were fun, this last one was a bitch. Difficult to turn a sex romp into a real story. But good writing practice. Right? A new full time job is taking away my free time. So, it's time to draw this story to a conclusion. Thanks for all the reviews. I appreciate all of you who took the time to read the story and I'm glad you enjoyed it enough to add to your watch list. 
> 
> Many thanks and Spartan Smiles to "Insaneblain" who fiercely wielded The Mighty HALO Canon Sword over my head to keep me from going too fangirl over this chapter. Hey, wait a minute. I AM a fangirl. So I can hardly be blamed for wanting to get The Master Chief out of his armor . 
> 
> Another thank you to “SwordsmanofShadows” and "Andrithir" for assistance with structure, and assorted wtf!? issues. This story began as one thing and needed to evolve into something else, you guys helped me make it happen. Btw, dear readers, go read their stuff too.

The ride was quiet as we crossed the Great Plains. City after city swept past us as the Pelican raced to New Phoenix. Why that city, I wondered? Had the Composer aimed randomly? New Phoenix wasn't the largest or the most populated city. Was this thoughtless slaughter or the perfect size population for a test bed?

We couldn't be sure what we'd find down there. The city was off limits to all but cleared personnel. Only relief parties and scientists investigating the incident were allowed in and even they went in escorted by assigned military personnel only. But I needed to find my Spartan. As a just-in-case, Fire teams Majestic and Crimson were en route to New Phoenix for back up and escort.

We were seated in the very back of the aircraft. So the engine noise, consoles, and the weapons racks provided us with complete privacy. Both of us were too well trained to allow ourselves much of a romantic moment in a military situation. But everything was so new and fresh between us. The desire to affectionately tease him was very tempting. When the pilot reported over the radio we were an hour out of New Phoenix, I leaned over to the Master Chief, "John, I'm going to change clothes. Run interference for me?"

"Perhaps."

I waited until he opened his eyes. Then he looked at me earnestly and pitched his voice low, "You may take that off, only if you promise to wear again. Purple suits you."

With a hint of a smile around his eyes, he nodded me toward the back of the aircraft. I grabbed my bag and fished out a pair of jeans, boots, and a leather jacket. Instead of turning his back to allow me some privacy, he faced me. Waiting expectantly.

"So, you're gonna watch?" I ventured.

"Commander, a conscientious soldier never misses an opportunity to gain additional information about the mission objective... ." He stopped himself, looked around as if remembering where he was and replied, "No, Commander." And politely turned around.

"Hey, Master Chief," I replied qiuetly enough to get him to look at me. "I don't mind."

After I quickly changed clothes, we headed forward. But I did take a moment to surreptitiously run my hand down his arm as I passed. When my hand slipped over his, he gently squeezed my fingers. Then back to business, because when the pilot noticed me he pointed toward the view screen.

"Your Fire teams are here, ma'am."

The Pelican, with Fire Teams Majestic and Crimson aboard, dropped into formation beside us. Good. We're making progress and now that we're together, I was ready to deploy. Unfortunately, we were still a good forty-five minutes out and I'm not very patient when it comes to a mission. So pacing seemed like a good alternative. I didn't get very far, because Master Chief pulled me down into my chair after my second lap.

"I bet you're good at waiting." I commented, grudgingly crossing my arms over my chest.

"No. I'm not. My free time is spent in cryo sleep."

I thought about the last two days and all he'd been through. "For someone who's spent their career in cryo or fighting, you've experienced quite a bit of real life in the last forty-eight hours."

"Commander Palmer..."

I shook my head, "You don't have to say anything."

He filled up his lungs with air and gazed to a distant point only he could see. "Until I came aboard Infinity, Cortana was my only ally. She gave me advice, information and camaraderie. With you I learned things that an A.I., no matter how sophisticated, could not provide. You gave me something I would otherwise have never experienced."

He was looking at me now without reservation. "It had been a long time, John. Since...Well, I wanted to be with you, to comfort you if I possibly could."

"You did and so much more."

And then I blushed. He's looking right at me and I'm blushing. Didn't they train this out of us?

"Commander Palmer, are you losing your military bearing?"

Now he's teasing me and I grinned at him.

The pilot interrupted us. "Commander Palmer, I'm picking up an IFF tag signature. IDENT please?"

As I approached, the pilot pointed toward the ship's HUD. There was Thorne's IFF tag faithfully signaling his position. I was determined to retrieve him before any trouble started about his whereabouts. We had plenty of time to locate him before he's officially reported AWOL.

Master Chief stood at my shoulder. "It's him." I turned and nodded. "Lieutenant, execute a flyby. Then set us down close to that signal."

"Aye, Commander."

When the pilot nosed the aircraft down we saw the wide empty avenues. The vehicles stopped at a odd angles. At altitude the area appeared covered in snow. Of course, that wasn't possible. The particles were light enough that the Pelican's down draft sent it swirling in the dry desert air.

"Ready, Master Chief?"

His answer was to head aft and prepare the gear we planned to take down with us. Before following him, I observed the pilot and the flight officer exchange a grin. I already knew scuttlebutt claimed the Master Chief and I we were keeping company. Even a ship as large as Infinity had a gossip mill. Although it was generally believed - and certainly reinforced to the new troops - Master Chief chopped up Grunts and Jackals over his breakfast cereal. I knew no one had less than the highest respect and admiration for him. But I wanted to make a point.

"Something amusing, gentlemen?"

"No ma'am!"

After making eye contact with both of them, I headed to the back of the Pelican to retrieve my gear. Master Chief handed me one of the two pistols kept as standard issued on a Pelican of this size. We both secured a com device to our ear and I grabbed a Boonie hat for each of us.

The Pelican finally bumped to a stop and we watched the other Pelican land next to us. When the engines quieted the flight officer lowered the ramp. Once we were clear of the Pelicans the pilots closed the ramps and secured the aircraft.

Majestic and Crimson silently joined us. No one spoke. Even DeMarco just nodded to me. It seemed disrespectful to speak. Like when you're in church or a funeral. Hoya handed over two ceramic and titanium ballistic vests and an assault rifle for each of us. After a signal from their team leaders, Majestic and Crimson fanned out around the Chief and me.

It was mid afternoon in this region. The city should have been bustling with the sounds of commuter traffic. Instead, the absolute silence of the once busy city was unsettling. We'd all seen the effects of the Covenant's glassing. The burnt bodies, etched like a shadow on the ground or wall where they died trying to escape. Shadows of people caught screaming in pain and fear as they died. Dead children lined up behind their teacher caught in the act of running for a shelter.

This was different, in fact, it's out-and-out spooky. Everywhere you looked your eyes expected to see movement. Even the sound of birds was absent in the dry chill of the empty streets. Beside me Master Chief shouldered a jacket over the ballistic vest and readied his weapon.

"Teams, time limit to find Thorne is three hours. More than that and we make Master Chief late for his meeting at HQ. So let's go find Mister Thorne and get out of here," I called out, breaking the eerie quiet. After a quick verification of the IFF tag signal and I waved my teams to move out.

We'd heard about this strange blue glow and the piles of dust represented what was left of a body once it'd been composed. As we moved down the street we got a closer look at the glowing particles scattered amidst the powder. However, time and wind had blown the neat piles around leaving streaks of glowing dust in the city streets. The detritus of a city brushed past us carried along by the wind as it moaned and wailed unrestricted around the tall buildings.

"What the hell is this stuff?" Hoya asked the pile of ash he stirred with his boot.

"It's what's left of the people after the Composer got through with them. Do you ever read the mission briefings, Hoya?" DeMarco, snarled. "At least show some fucking respect."

DeMarco looked at him in disgust and kept walking.

One of the Crimson team stepped close and whispered, "Hey Majestic, think there's any ghosts around here? Don't be scared, guys. Crimson's got your back."

"Yeah, more like their backs as they run away."

Crimson laughed. But a look from Master Chief silenced them and a second later I added, "Stow it. Stay alert."

The shadows deepened inside the city. The air grew heavy with the smell of sewage and stagnant water. The cloying smells made me wish for my armor.

Master Chief and I kept walking, matching the movements of the fire teams by turning side to side scanning the area. Beside me, I sensed a growing tension in Master Chief. His breathing so labored I could hear it. Almost like he was wheezing. I could tell he wanted to cough, but was trying not to give away our position. I could feel it too. Human dust particles were in the air, it was suffocating. Then suddenly he stopped and sneezed. His next inhalation brought a fit of coughing. I kept my eye on him. But when the coughing continued, held up my hand in a fist. We all stopped and I grabbed a bottle of water from his pack.

The water seemed to help. "You okay, Master Chief?" I asked him. It began to dawn on me that he was so accustomed to filtered air, this tainted air might affect him. Was I any less at risk?

"I'm a soldier," he countered quickly, after draining the bottle. His voice had an unexpected sharp tone to it. Then as if to confirm it, he seemed to catch himself and glanced at me, his brow furrowed. This is the first time we'd been in the field together, so I really didn't think much of it. He probably felt uncomfortable out in the open without his Mjolnir. I could empathize with that.

There was something irritating in the air. I was about to sneeze myself and I felt oddly agitated. "You picking up anything in the atmosphere?" I inquired of my teams.

"Negative for toxins in the air, Commander. We will continue to monitor. Ma'am? I don't suppose you'd consider waiting in the transport?"

The look I shot towards DeMarco gave him his answer.

"Understood, ma'am. Didn't think so."

"Commander, there is no value in exposing yourself to the possibility of a toxin. Perhaps you should return to the filtered air of the aircraft."

"I'd rather not do that, Master Chief," I returned, feeling my way just a bit and listening closely to the changes in his tone. Whatever concern I might have experienced from his reaction was forgotten when the scanner signaled we were within twenty-five meters of the IFF signal. We picked up the pace and Master Chief silently followed me. Another a short walk and located Thorne's helmet lying on the front seat of a burned out vehicle.

"Why is he in his armor when he's supposed to be on leave and why would he abandon a valuable and top secret piece of military equipment?" The Chief didn't comment, just attached the helmet to his belt. Then he turned his back toward me, silently following the Spartan armor boot-print of Thorne's tracks.

"Everyone sticks together." I ordered, before turning to follow the Spartan II.

My teams spread out in formation. The tracks left the street after about a mile and headed up a flight of stairs into a building. Why not a suburban area or to the apartment complex down the avenue? It was in the back of my mind that we might find him at his parent's home. So why an office building? But his tracks were plainly written in the dust. The door to the office building was open and we headed slowly in; watching our angles.

The air inside was thick and stale. Then right away heard someone call out. Slumped against the receptionist's desk we found an injured Marine. Another few minutes and he would have lost his battle with trying to breath over a sucking chest wound. I checked his vitals after Master Chief removed his helmet. We plugged the hole with Bio Foam and made him as comfortable as possible.

"Marine? Open your eyes. I need a sit rep."

His eyes opened and he flinched in pain. Oh, it's you. Commander Palmer, right?" Struggling to focus his eyes.

"That's right and two of my Fire Teams. What's going on here, Corporal?"

But he's coughing hard he can barely put a sentence together. Hoya got down behind him and helped him sit up.

"Sorry ma'am. We were sent down here to test the atmosphere and the piles of ash, search for survivors."

"Who attacked you?"

"Never saw them, ma'am. They were speaking English and using conventional weapons. I don't know where the rest of my team is. They were smart enough to disconnect our bio communications though. Just a bunch of looters or something else. But that's why there's been no report from us. Ma'am? I think they thought I was dead. Otherwise they would have finished me off. Could you check on my buddy. His last position was by the elevators."

DeMarco found the young man. He lay wide-eyed staring up the ceiling. "Lance Corporal Matthew Snyder. He's a member of one of the first recon teams to investigate after the Didact attack. But why? What could possibly have killed him?

One of the Crimson's team turned away. "Dead at nineteen. What a waste. We've got some varmint control to take care of gentlemen. Let's get to it."

They all nodded in agreement.

It was Tedra Grant from Majestic who noticed the odd manner in which the second young marine lay. She pointed at the floor. The young man's head lay at an odd angle from his body. "His throat was cut. No blood. Bollocks, she swore."

"So he was moved here? But why?" Hoya asked the group.

"To get our attention?"

Grant shook her head. "To warn us away. Anyone who saw two murdered Marines might think twice about a confrontation."

"I gotta confrontation right here." Crimson's team leader held up his rifle.

I instructed Hoya to call for a pick up on these two marines. Then we kept moving, following the tracks back outside and down a side street. Gradually we began to see evidence of vandalism. Smashed windows. Merchandise dragged into the street. As we rounded a corner we saw a gang of about twenty people. We paused and took position to observe the group. What we saw seemed like a typical group of looters. Then the answer to our question about the bio coms was answered when two police officers jumped out a window with a piece of equipment in their arms. This was nothing we couldn't handle. We would round them up and call for local law enforcement to pick them up. Or maybe I would shoot those two cops myself, just to make a point. Easy, Palmer.

Obviously struggling with his breathing now. Master Chief kept trying to clear his throat. His breath was coming out in raspy gasps. I could tell he wanted to cough, but was trying not to give away our position. I could feel it too. My chest felt tight and I needed to sneeze or at least catch a breath of fresh air. Each breath is painful and shallow.

Then one of the group shot another over a piece of junk. The crowd quickly escalated into violence. Screams of fear and gunfire echoed down the street. Master Chief seemed to respond to their outburst of violence and grabbed me. Before the teams could respond, Master Chief shouted at them to stand back. His hold on my arms was painful, but I ordered my teams to stand down.

"Disarm that crowd. I'm fine! Move!" They reluctantly moved away and repositioned themselves to take on the crowd.

Then Master Chief dragged me inside a nearby building.

"What in the hell do you think you're doing? Let me go."

But he was much stronger than I - another reason for me to hate that creepy bitch Halsey. I should've shot her twice - and lifted me off my feet. And backed me against a wall in a darkened office. The sounds from outside muffled by the dark rooms and shadowed spaces...

The sound of his breathing grew labored as the wheezing got deeper. Was I angry? Hell, yeah. He'd just compromised my authority in front of my men. But I managed to push down my growing hostility. "John," I said quietly. "Nothing is threatening us. The teams have that situation outside under control. It's just a bunch of looters."

But he didn't hear me. His grip on my shoulders tightened. The bite of his fingers beginning to tear at my skin.

"I won't let anything happen to you. I'll protect you. I swear."

"Hey, I appreciate the thought but I served twelve tours as an ODST. I can take care of myself."

He reached up, his hand almost a blur and pulled the Comm link from my ear. Shutting it off so it wouldn't send a signal and pinned me against the wall again. His eyes were wild and unfocused; his breathing labored.

"Then I'll just take what I want from you and be done."

This was so unlike anything I'd seen from him before. I replied in jest, attempting to ease the tension. "Don't make a girl a promise you can't keep." But my smile quickly faded as I watched him change again. With a sharp intake of breath, the hooded blue eyes turned icy. With a strangled cry he threw me down, as his emotions sprang to life. A sudden gust of cold wind came through the building, swirling around us and tossing dust against us. The need to clear my throat finally caught up with me. The coughing was painful. My lungs felt like they were on fire. The filthy air only aggravated our condition. But it was Master Chief who recovered first.

"You ridicule me? Throw Cortana's words back in my face?"

"Of course not, Master Chief. What…?"

"I was wrong to trust you. I could count on Cortana."

"She was programed be trust worthy, John!" That was an ugly thing to say. This damn dust!

"Would you like a demonstration of what I'm really capable of?"

Then he's on me, kissing me violently. His body weight crushing the air out of me. Breathing is impossible now. The dust floated in the air all around us. As I stared up at the ceiling, pondering if he were about to rape me and the possibility of his success, I watched the light glinting off it as it floated through motes of light.

His kiss was savage. It's a violence I'm all too aware of. After all, we live it every day. We maim and slaughter and risk our lives. Then, share a quick meal, grab some sleep and go back for more. Instead of apologizing for the words which set him off, I twined my arms around his neck and returned the kiss.

Plunging my tongue into his mouth, he responded by grinding his hips against me. I heard him keen deep in his chest. The emotion rumbled out of him. He tried to stop it by grinding his jaw closed. But it was too painful. The sound was heartbreaking, because it was the sound of anguish not desire and it quenched my growing passion.

I decide to try and gain his attention by calling him by something other than what she might have called him. I smoothed my hand over his face and head. "My love, tell me. Let me help."

He rolled off me and sat up. Master Chief let his head fall into his hands.

Before I let him answer, I radioed my teams. The looters were being rounded up and loaded onto transports. Law enforcement units from nearby towns were en route and HAZMAT teams were mobilized. I told them to canvas the area and stay in touch. Master Chief and I were better off inside out of the dust.

"Good idea, Commander. We got the power turned back in your building. The air will clear soon."

"Good job, Hoya. Everything is copacetic. Understood? Palmer out."

Behind me Master Chief spoke softly, "Commander Palmer...Sarah? Join me?"

I scooted closer to him and he lifted his right arm for me to slide up next to him. As intimate as we had been the other night before this was just a little strange. But the air was clear and I took a deep breath of fresh air. Something other than the dirty air had set him off. So I prepared myself to listen. With every breath the tension and hostility ebbed. By the time he began to speak again, I was drifting and enjoying the moment leaning against him. But I snapped awake at the sound of him quoting my earlier comment.

"'Don't make a girl a promise you can't keep.'"

I felt his breath hitch under my cheek. I tightened my hold on him and willed myself to silence.

"Halsey presented her to me like a gift. Something I should be grateful for. I wasn't and I resented the intrusion of her constant presence. She counted every heartbeat and listened to every breath. Later, she became my ally and companion. The key to every lock, and light on every dark path. The place to lean against when I was too exhausted to keep moving. Her vibrancy and intellect helped me contain the growing horror that I was the only one left. Used up. Alone."

"She is gone, because I couldn't save her. A few years ago, I had to leave her in order to complete a mission. I promised I'd be back. She said, don't make her a promise, I couldn't keep. But I kept it and I found her. On Requiem, when she couldn't hide the rampancy from me any longer, I promised to get her back to Halsey. She said those words again and I thought, I could do that. The Infinity was right there. I could save her this time too. Instead, she saved my life and sacrificed herself so that I could live. I failed to keep my promise. I failed her."

Revealed only by the tremor that passed through him and a quick gasp of breath. Something terrible broke free in him. There were no sounds of tears, but his grief and rage over the events leading up to her sacrifice resonated through him.

His anger over Del Rio's mistakes, and - it suddenly occurred to me - his feelings of inadequacy over his perceived inability to protect her left an anger in him that only time could dissipate. But I could be here for him and offer what sympathy he might accept. Those were probably the most words he'd said in his life. But he's gotten them out and with it the pain. I stayed quiet and gave him time.

For several moments, his body shook with reaction and when it was finished with him, he sank back, spent. I felt it all, where I leaned against him, blinking back hot tears.

"I'm here for you."

In response, he tightened his arms around me. After a while he spoke again. "Why did you pick me, Sarah?" The question drifted quietly through the darkness.

"I had just made Lieutenant Commander when we heard about Forward Unto Dawn and The Arc. Everyone knew about the Master Chief, of course. Your losses, and your courage from that horror were the reason I entered the Spartan IV program. Jun-A226 recruited me, but you were the reason I joined. The bravest of all, the Spartan who never lost and always persevered." I had to laugh at myself and chuckled aloud. "I was such a kid then. All for guts and glory. Right?"

"I was MIA."

"Not to me. I knew somehow you'd survived. Then, there you were on Requiem. You saved us. You almost single handedly saved the largest ship in the fleet. You saved the flagship. I suppose they'll eventually have to create a new medal for you. Then you walked on board, like you'd just been out for a stroll in the jungle and I finally had the chance to meet you and all I could think of to say was something smart-ass. Anyway, after you destroyed Didact's ship and you walked passed us. I saw the fatigue and the grief. I wanted to make you stop right there and reassure you everything would be all right."

"Master Chief's reputation, the armor, Halsey's propaganda, that's all it was.." He replied, as if that explained everything. I noticed he described himself in third person.

"It's possible you could have convinced me of that before. But not after spending that night with you. Experiencing your strength and passion."

"Sarah, I want to tell you. But I don't know - "

"- You are a Spartan, a soldier who speaks with his actions, not his words. But you are also a man, correct?"

"A fact you reminded me of."

"I'd say that went both ways. So stop worrying about what you should say or what words you should use and just say whatever you need to say."

"Then, Sarah. Come here, now...I want to feel everything."

The sound of weapons fire broke us apart. A spray of assault rifle fire appeared on the wall just above our heads. Pieces of wall crumbled down on us.

"Nice and easy. Let go of the pretty lady and sit up. Don't try to stand and keep your hands where I can see them. After that confession I'm pretty sure she'd be upset about it you being killed. That was a real nice story."

"Thorne?"

I rolled to my feet to confirm the identity of the voice. I sidestepped the sweep of the Master Chief's arm as he tried to stop me. The young man's face was sunburned; lips blistered and swollen. Those brown eyes I often admired shot through with the hard glint of someone who'd found the edge of their sanity.

I put as much warmth into my voice as possible. I needed to get his attention. I knew Master Chief was fast enough to disarm him. But I wanted to try another way and I help up my hand to stay his movement.

"Hi Gabriel. How's it going?"

"Commander Palmer! I didn't realize..." He pulled himself to attention. "Ma'am, I apologize. Master Chief please stand, if you wish...Of course, stand… I..."

Master Chief stood slowly and we exchanged a look. He nodded to show he understood. Of course, we could have disarmed him. But, this young man had been through enough. Master Chief held out his hand, "The weapon?"

Thorne couldn't hear him. He was still lost in his terror. "I-I was guarding the city. It was the least I could do. I killed three of them. They were killing the Marines. I had to stop them. They were fighting over things that didn't belong to them. I'm sorry...I tried...Everyone is gone." Grief bubbled around his words, as he sank exhausted to his knees. "They killed my family... My little sister... My parents...Everyone's parents. We're all orphans now…"

"The hell you say." That was Hoya's deep voice.

"Gab, you're no orphan." Then out of the darkness walked Fire team Majestic. Tedra Grant knelt down beside him and put her arm around him. She bent her head toward him and apparently said something he liked, because he grinned up at her. DeMarco dropped a hand to the young man's shoulder, while Madsen quietly slipped the assault rifle out of Thorne's grasp.

"That's enough talk about being alone, Gab." Thorne shot DeMarco a grateful glance. Then Majestic's team leader joined the Master Chief and me.

"Okay if we take him home, ma'am?"

"Yes, but drop him off at the Infirmary. No home remedies having to do with alcohol. That's an order."

"Yes, Commander. Local law enforcement is taking control of the city. They're gathering up as much of this dust as they can. They said someday soon there will be a mass burial and a ceremony. There's a storm blowing in. I think you'd find fresher air outside, Commander."

The Fire Teams took Thorne back to Infinity and Master Chief and I boarded the other Pelican. Once we were in the air, I leaned my head back against the seat. We didn't speak, but there were things I wanted to say.

"Chief...John. It's okay to admit that you loved her." You relied on her. She was your partner in the purest sense. Was her death meaningless?"

"No."

"Neither was how you felt about her. She sacrificed herself to save you. You would have done the same for her. That's why I approached you that night. I couldn't replace her, but I could at least give you some comfort; a place to rest."

"You did…"

"You think no one else can possibly understand or accept you the way she did."

He didn't answer.

"Then tell me who that man was who spent the night with me?"

"I'm not sure I know him."

He was generous and gentle. John, I'm not asking for anything more from you than the truth."

"What is the truth?"

"Roland said, when the Librarian changed you, whatever she did to you also destroyed your pituitary implant - didn't anyone discuss that with?"

"No, no one. So emotions...what I feel for you. The rage that eats at me and the grief I cannot control...Don't look at me."

He was unbuckling his seatbelt to move away. I didn't want to lose the moment or lose him. "Tell me about her, John. Was she as remarkable as they say?"

He fell back in the seat, "Yes, sassy and brilliant. Alternated between treating me like her kid brother and a friend. Sometimes, I simply followed her lead. Then when she needed me most I couldn't save her… couldn't even touch her. She was everything positive to me in a world filled with savagery."

"Perhaps in time you could learn to allow other meaningful things into your life."

"Like you?"

"Only if that is what you want. I will not press you for anything you do not wish to give or share freely."

"I've overheard other men talk about the women in their lives - many times I heard disparaging and disrespectful remarks. Complaints about personal situations which are no one's business."

"I hear them too, John. But I am not one those women."

"No you are not. We are Spartans, we stand alone and that is as it should be."


	6. Tall Enough For You?

AN: The uniform insignia MC gives to the young boy is a combination out of my imagination of the traditional Navy Seal Trident and a Special Forces design.

Apologies in advance for changing POV. I indicated the change like this: ~o~

* * *

_The times are tough now, just getting tougher_

_This old world is rough, it's just getting rougher_

_Cover me, come on baby, cover me_

__Well I'm looking for a lover who will come on in and cover me_ _

* * *

As if I needed to be reminded of my place. But I got the message and it stung.

"My mistake," I muttered and leaned back in the seat, squeezing my eyes closed. Don't feel, move, fight, live. Every Spartan's mantra. Admit it Palmer, you made 'the mistake" by getting involved, by caring, by opening yourself to feelings. As a Spartan, it's always a bad idea, always was and always will be.

I was pretty good at distracting myself from discomfort. To distance thoughts from the Master Chief's words, I recited the ODST launch checklist to myself.

_Check harness_

_Secure Helmet_

_Check oxygen flow_

_Green light team_

_Listen for go countdown_

_Tuck_

_Launch_

It wasn't working...

_Free fall_

Bury your feelings, numb your heart, don't feel, don't think, follow the Spartan in front of you. Move!

Pacing. The pacing was a nervous habit from the early days of my career. Loved the feeling of free fall, hated the waiting. Thirty steps to the cockpit, thirty steps to the latrine. The Master Chief gave a slight snore as I passed him. His hands were open and relaxed at his side. How dare he sleep while I'm pacing, I could shout, Incoming! as I walked passed. I can do a pretty good impression of a Grunt (such are the talents you learn as a Hell Jumper). That would wake him up.

My electroless nickel finish, consecutive serial number, matched pair of M6H Magnum handguns lay holstered on the seat. I could just shoot him. Then I'd engrave his name on the barrel—I dropped into the nearest seat.

He didn't have the faintest idea of the implications of what he'd just said. I told myself all along we might have only a moment of time. We are Spartans. So I would follow his lead. There was no blame to lay at his feet or hurt feelings for me to claim. Get over it, Palmer. The time has past.

In order for him to take back control of his emotions and his intellect, he would shut down again. What could I do to earn just a moment more? Nothing. I had to honor his decision and after what happened down in New Phoenix, I really couldn't blame him. So I grabbed a blanket and stretched out over the empty seats. Sleep finally claimed me while troubled dreams of intense blue eyes studying my face for reaction, while strong hands roamed over my body, kept me from genuinely resting. John. I mean you no harm…

~o~

Across the aisle, John-117 opened his eyes to the gloom of a darkened cabin. His hand swept over empty space, reaching for the woman next to him. With a start at his lapse he sat up straight and scanned the cabin with keen eyes. There she was. A bit of reddish-brown hair escaped from a blanket wrapped around a feminine form. A pale hand gripped the edge to keep her head covered. For a long time he just stared at her hand. A hand capable of much violence, efficient killing and yet when she touched him it had been with a gentleness unknown to him.

The flight officer appeared out of the shadows and knelt down next to him. "We're almost to HQ, Master Chief. I need her sitting upright and strapped in."

"Understood."

The officer turned to leave, then stopped and turned back to the Spartan. He began to speak with a Southern accent. That drawl which aircrew had adopted hundreds of years before, from the test pilot, Chuck Yeager, "Ain't none of my business, Master Chief, but between you and me, she's a keeper. That's all I'm saying."

'A keeper?' His mind searched for a definition, while he stretched out his hand to the sleeping woman's shoulder. No, he shouldn't touch her. Not now, not ever again. His priority is regaining control over himself. Whether the implants were destroyed or not, didn't matter. He was still responsible for his actions. He had a meeting to attend and duties to perform. Later, although he had no idea where they might send him, there would be more missions and for that he needed a clear head and no distractions.

"Commander Palmer?"

So instead of reaching out to touch her shoulder like he planned. He simply called her named. His right hand opened and closed. He wanted to touch her.

She turned her face toward him to study him with guarded eyes.

"We are about to land, ma'am."

He watched her slowly rise without looking at him and carefully folded the blanket, turning pointedly away to stow it in a bin.

He might not understand what had changed, but something definitely had. In his experience most things explained themselves if you stayed silent and watched. So that is what he did.

She ran her fingers through her hair, he imagined to smooth it out, but it only made it worse. She straightened her clothes and buckled the seat belt. Commander Palmer kept her eyes on the bulkhead in front of her.

Once the Pelican was on the ground and taxiing in, she finally spoke, "Master Chief, did you intend on going back to Infinity immediately after the meeting?"

"Originally, but..."

"Okay, I'll just find something to do. Have the pilot call me or you call me, when it's time to leave."

And just like that, he understood Commander Palmer no longer wished to spend time with him. Perhaps she would meet with friends? After all she was a high ranking officer. She had friends, and contacts to meet with. Perhaps even a young man...No, he wouldn't let himself think that.

The ramp lowered and the two Spartans left silently and went their separate ways. The flight officer shot a glance at the pilot who shrugged his shoulders. "Come on, I'll buy you some breakfast."

~o~

The Master Chief stood alone beneath the blossoming cherry trees. The Jefferson Memorial stood across the Potomac framed in the branches. The meeting ended two hours ago, but he still wore his dress uniform. The pathways beneath the trees were quiet at this time of the morning. The tourists were not out yet. He walked slowly, head down and hands locked behind his back. He had a lot to think about.

They had offered him retirement by couching it words of sympathy and well wishes. Retirement? He didn't even know what that word meant. There'd been no 'or' either. No retire or go here, or take this assignment or take this teaching job. He'd worn this uniform all of this life. Cortana.

"Excuse me, sir?"

A young voice distracted him from his spiraling thoughts. A boy waited patiently for the man who towered over him to respond.

"My I help you?"

"Are you a Spartan?"

Even sinking down on one knee, the top of the boy's head barely reached his chest. "I'm not supposed to talk about that. Are you cleared for classified information?" The Master Chief asked conspiratorially.

"My father is a Marine," the young man stated proudly.

"Then you are cleared. Yes, I am a Spartan."

"Thank you, sir. I knew you were, 'cause my Dad told me all about you guys. Maybe you know my Dad?"

"What's his name?"

"Gunnery Sergeant John Mackie, sir"

Master Chief looked up at the boy's mother. She shook her head with tears in her eyes.

"Maybe you saw him...before he was killed?"

"I think I remember him now. He was very brave that day. I remember he was talking about his son. Was that you?"

The young boy nodded his head enthusiastically.

"Why don't you take this?" Master Chief removed his Special Forces Trident insignia from his uniform and pinned it to the boy's t-shirt.

"Wow! Thank you!"

"How old are you?"

His Mom answered, "He's seven and can't wait to grow up and be a Marine."

"Will you work hard at becoming the kind of man your Father hoped you'd be? Do well in school and listen to your Mom? Before all that I want you to promise me you'll enjoy your childhood. Have fun and learn something new everyday"

"Y-yes, sir." The young boy's face crumpled and he threw himself against the Master Chief. Master Chief slowly slid his arms around the child.

The child showed great courage but there were limits. The Spartan recognized the child's grief. He'd known it too. It's too hard to watch people you care about die. When you just wish everything would just stop, the sun keeps coming up and another day dawns. Then another day and another. In a few days you recognize that you can get through more than just a few minutes without thinking about them and the healing begins.

"It's hard to lose someone… someone you love. I think we have to go on for them and live the life they would have wanted for us. Do you think your Father would have wanted you and your Mom to be happy?" Master Chief murmured quietly.

"Yes, sir. Did someone you love die too?"

"Yes."

"How did you get over it, sir?"

"I don't know that I have. But there are people in my life—he looked up at Commander Palmer, who'd been standing there for several minutes—who are willing to be patient and understanding. I think you have to learn to accept friendship when it's offered to you."

"Is that who you mean?" The child gestured over the Chief's shoulder and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. "She's very pretty, sir."

"Yes and she's a Spartan too."

The boy turned back and said, "I think you'd better go over to her, before a Marine comes along and steals her from you. My Father always said, there wasn't a girl alive who could resist a Marine in his uniform."

Master Chief laughed. "Is that so? Well, then. I'd better do what you suggest. I'm glad to have met you. You and your Mom take good care of each other, okay?"

"Aye, aye, Spartan, sir!"

~o~

Commander Palmer hadn't actually been looking for him, just walking and enjoying the vibrant colors of the cherry blossoms and the spring morning. Washington DC was beautiful in the Spring. She stayed until the Mother and son were gone around the bend of the path.

"You did wonderfully with that little boy. But, I'll let you get back to your walk, Master Chief."

"Wait. Walk with me?" He asked holding out his arm for her to take. He had no idea where he'd learned that gesture, but it seemed appropriate. It was a long minute before she took the offered arm. Without speaking, the tall soldier, immaculately attired in his dress uniform, tucked the arm of his companion, a strikingly powerful and beautiful woman, into his.

The beautiful morning brightened as birds began to hunt for breakfast among the pink and white blossoms scattered beneath the trees. Master Chief noticed how the sun brought out the red in Sarah's hair. The resplendent colors around him were so unusual, he he felt the weight of his thoughts lifting. A few feet away, a female duck conducted her small family to breakfast. The couple paused to watch.

"A simple uncomplicated life," Palmer noted with a deep inhalation of morning air.

"Sarah? I am unaccustomed to apologizing. Especially when I'm not sure what I might have done. But if I had anything to do with your sudden change of mood - your unhappiness - allow me to make amends."

"How could I be unhappy in this beautiful setting with a handsome soldier about to kiss me."

"Is he?" His thumb rubbed over her bottom lip and staring intently into her face. "He doesn't want anything to cause you unhappiness, especially if it's his own social clumsiness…"

"Don't you say that." She pulled his head down, but waited for him to make the first move toward kissing her.

Master Chief brushed his lips across hers. She captured his face with both hands and bending her head back invited him to deepen the kiss. In between their tentative kisses she ask, "I thought you wanted to stop this between us?"

"I was wrong – I want to live."

"I like the sound of that. Now come back down here."

"Yes, ma'am." He slanted his mouth over hers and delved his tongue into her mouth for a quick taste. Her reaction was immediate. Master Chief pulled her closer, whispering words of endearment into her ears. The continued to kiss and speak quietly, until the time came to make a decision. After all, they were adults not teenagers.

"I believe the phrase is, 'My place or yours?'" Her happy smile was answer enough, but doubt still lingered. "Will you come with me, Sarah?"

"Of course."

All heads turned as the tall handsome couple crossed the hotel lobby. The Spartans did not hold hands or indulge in any public displays of affection. But when Master Chief opened the door to his room she was already loosening his collar. This was still so unusual to be touched...to be desired.

His uniform went carefully back into the garment bag. Naked, he turned back to her only to find she is staring at him intently. Unexpectedly, he felt shy.

"I have many scars," rubbing his hand absent mindedly over his torso.

Her eyes widened as she followed the movement of his hand over the rippling abs. The only word she could speak with the breath left in her throat was, "No!"

Bending her head, she kissed the scars, paying special attention to the bruises on his rib cage. "Don't say that about yourself. You're beautiful."

He snorted with laughter. "You're teasing me."

While she proved she wasn't teasing him with her feather light kisses to his torso, he discovered the texture of her sweater. He liked the feel of it against her skin. He wondered...he pushed her bra aside. The soft fabric molded perfectly over her breasts and she answered with her teeth sinking into his pectoral muscle.

Her nipples hardened under his hands. Perhaps if he rubbed…? Yes, she reacted by strongly sucking his nipple into her mouth. He practically came up on his toes...he hadn't known...didn't realize. Her teeth grazed over him again. Master Chief wanted that to happen again... and again...and harder...

She got the idea when he pressed her face to his chest. "Sarah…?"

The Master Chief for whom the smallest detail could mean the difference between survival or mission failure, continued to study the effect of gently pinching her nipples between his thumb and forefinger and how much pressure yielded a sound of pleasure from her.

Without moving her mouth from his chest, she moved his hands to her skirt and showed him how to release the buttons. It fell to her ankles and his fingers encountered a new sensation. The soft silky slide of his fingertips across her lacy panties. His instincts took over for him, for he was helpless now to resist the ancient drives. He filled his hands with the firm cheeks of her ass and hauled her against him. The aftershock of the impact of her hips against his groin brought them both up for air.

Master Chief hesitated for a moment, but Commander Palmer did not and she back them both up to the bed and pulled him down with her.

"I want you now!" And he ripped away the lacy fabric and was inside her before she landed on the mattress.

The intensity of their joining and the euphoria associated with reconnecting made them oblivious to the motion of the bed as it surrendered to gravity and the combined weight of the two Spartans. John did remember to stop himself from completely crushing Sarah by landing on his forearms. That was soon forgotten when she tipped her hips up and wrapped her legs around his waist.

Master Chief ground his teeth together. This was very different than the first time. He was buried inside her. He had to move. The first time he drew back and his hips pushed against her pubic bone he felt his control slipping away. He would take her now, mark her somehow, he would never let never go. He couldn't have stopped now if a pair of Hunters walked into the room. Well, if his magnum was laying right there, he could get a shot off...

This was also going much faster than the first time. The pliant body beneath him spread herself to take as much of him in as possible. She was touching him with gentle hands. Encouraging him and saying words he'd never heard before. Sweet kisses that tingled on his skin.

"John…" she sighed, kissing his face and sweeping her hands across his torso and down over his butt and gripping the firm muscles.

"...beautiful." Nothing could touch him in his armor. Years spent in isolation, separated from everything and everyone around him. Now here he was naked and exposed and vulnerable. She called him her love. She'd promised to keep him safe. Tears stung his eyes. A fire banked for too long flared to life. Pulling every drop of blood and every thought to the point of their joining.

How could other men joke about this? It was more than he could take, but he couldn't stop. His last conscious thought was Sarah wrapping her Spartan-strong arms and legs around him so he was surrounded by her sweetness. When the release came he gripped her and pushed one last time as he poured himself into her in pulsing waves.

Sarah Palmer lay beneath John reveling in the experience of this moment. That he trusted her enough to allow this humbled her. Kissing his cheek she listened to his breathe as it slowed. Maybe this would never end, maybe they could just stay like this forever. But even if they could as he relaxed against her, breathing became almost impossible.

"John?"

"Hmm?"

"I can't breath."

Hu mumbled against her ear. "I guess they're not training Spartans like they used to...too bad, really."

"Well, at least we're not made out of some old fashioned metal. Like iron, maybe? You are so heavy! Move. Please."

"Lowers the standard for all of us..."

"You think I can't push you off me, Mister Big-Shot Spartan two?"

"Spartan four's are really not the same caliber..." he did however lift some of his weight off her. And that was a mistake because in favor of gentlemanly behavior his movement gave her just enough room to slide her legs under him. Now the strongest part of her body was under the Master Chief's center of gravity.

Before his look of you wouldn't dare faded, he was neatly flipped off the bed. He turned in mid-air and before his back hit the carpet he was back on his feet. Sarah laughed as she faced him from the other side of the bed. He had strength, but she had maneuverability.

I will catch you, Sarah. Do not underestimate me."

"I'd say it's you who will underestimate me."

He was magnificent to look at, all muscle and brawn and raw power. It caused even a senior Spartan on board the the largest ship in the fleet weak in the knees to see him like this.

This was simply a matter of trajectories and leverage. She was grinning at him, watching him and trying to guess which way he might move. In a moment he would catch her and he knew just what he would do when she was back in his arms. He didn't think she would mind losing this battle.

She was playing, a skillset the Master Chief hadn't actually learned yet. But he had no intention of losing this battle so when he fainted right she dodged left. While she laughed, he reached across the bed and grabbed the hand nearest him. The momentum yanked her directly off her feet and into his arms. So that when she completed the turn he grabbed her other hand and followed her body down, allowing the momentum to pull him down on top of her. With her legs spread under his chest and her hands captured in each of his, she was trapped.

Master Chief rested his head on her stomach and congratulated himself on a perfectly executed take down.

"John, you'll pay for this."

"Threatening a Spartan? May I work off my fine?"

"What are you talking about…"

She hadn't seen John lift his head and place a kiss on the soft curls between her legs. Her whole body jerked in response.

"Wait… John… Oh…"

Slowly, so slowly she impatiently tried to raise up off the bed to lift herself up to him, he eased his mouth down over her again and slipped his tongue between the folds. As he thought she might be, she was still very aroused. That he was tasting the effects of their initial release aroused him further. But first, he would make sure she found what she needed. The taste was erotic and intensely sexual. Her writhing body beneath his brought him to painful erection against the mattress and demanded attention. But it would have to wait because she was calling out to him.

She chanted his name, while he kissed her deeply and worked his tongue over her clit. So many sensitive areas to test. He'd released her hands by now and she grabbed his head.

"John, stay… don't move… please...Don't stop. Right there...Oh, J-J-John… Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

* * *

 

John Freeman Mackie (October 1, 1835–June 18, 1910) was a United States Marine and a recipient of America's highest military decoration—the Medal of Honor—for his actions in the American Civil War. He was the first Marine to receive the Medal of Honor: wiki/John_F._Mackie

...

_The times are tough now, just getting tougher_

_This old world is rough, it's just getting rougher_

_Cover me, come on baby, cover me_

_Well I'm looking for a lover who will come on in and cover me_

_Promise me baby you won't let them find us_

_Hold me in your arms, let's let our love blind us_

_Cover me, shut the door and cover me_

_Well I'm looking for a lover who will come on in and cover me_

_Outside's the rain, the driving snow_

_I can hear the wild wind blowing_

_Turn out the light, bolt the door_

_I ain't going out there no more_

_This whole world is out there just trying to score_

_I've seen enough I don't want to see any more,_

_Cover me, come on and cover me_

_I'm looking for a lover who will come on in and cover me_

_Looking for a lover who will come on in and cover me_

-Bruce Springsteen

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=betZWo0gZrc


	7. Tall Enough For You?

* * *

AN: I'll apologize up front for this. I have to finish this story, my new full time job leaves me almost no energy for writing. So for better or worse it's done. Thank you for the reads and reviews.

* * *

_I get so tired_

_Working so hard for our survival_

_I look to the time with you_

_To keep me awake and alive_

* * *

 

We hadn't even had time to stow our gear when the Skipper ordered us to report to his day cabin.

Report? We exchanged a look. What could have happened during the short while we were on leave? Reporting-in meant uniforms and protocol and military bearing. We parted ways to change into our uniforms.

Afterwards we met outside Captain Lasky's day cabin. Where to my surprise, he kept us waiting for a several minutes.

"Think we're in trouble?"

He raised his eyebrows at me and shrugged his shoulders. "That will prove a novelty. I've never been in trouble."

"Show off."

"Spartan IVs are prone to trouble. It's in your service records. A regular pattern of violent and mischievous behavior."

"And you've read them all, including mine?" I asked becoming more annoyed by the second. I know he's teasing me. But what the hell is Lasky up to?

"I don't need to read yours, I already know everything about you."

I crossed my arms over my chest and dared him to go on.

You prefer vanilla over chocolate. A preference I cannot comprehend. Your favorite color is the current color of my eyes. You prefer pistols to long range weapons and you have a tiny series of moles which point the way to…"

"Master Chief. About that trouble you've never been in?"

"And you're ticklish…"

"Stop right there…"

Then Roland called us in.

Before we entered I mouthed a thank you to him. His teasing had the effect he desired and caused me to relax. We entered together and came to attention in front of the Captain Lasky's desk.

"Commander Palmer, reporting as ordered, sir!"

"Master Chief Petty Officer Sierra-117 reporting as ordered sir."

Flawless salutes and flawless uniforms didn't give him a reason to invite us to to take parade rest or at ease. We were in trouble.

"Master Chief, do you have any idea how much a king size mattress and box springs costs? Of course you don't."

He turned to me, his eyes boring holes in my skull.

"Commander Palmer, do you know how much a custom designed etched glass shower door costs to replace?"

I took a chance and glanced down at the paper in his hands. I recognized the logo of John's hotel immediately.

"Are you in the position of attention, Commander?"

Dammit, he caught me looking. "Yes, sir!"

The captain began to pace. "Do either of you know how many security protocols were broken by allowing this to happen and for this bill to be sent to MY SHIP? Oh, and I can't forget to give you this letter, Master Chief. From a young man who addressed it to the 'Master Chief Petty Officer Spartan who lives on the UNSC Infinity and his pretty lady friend.'"

"Sir...if I could just explain…"

"Commander Palmer, I think I have a pretty good imagination. Perhaps not as adventurous as you two. But I don't require an explanation. What I will do is hand this bill over to you, Commander. I don't care how you do it, but between the two of you get this mess paid for. Am I clear?"

AN: I just made a spontaneous, unconscious flying change of POV right here… I'm not changing it though. You'll hang with me won't you?

"Aye, sir!" Their response came out in unison.

"Commander, you are dismissed to duty. Master Chief, please stay behind for a few moments." Indicating a chair for the Spartan to sit down.

The Master Chief accepted the chair but kept his eyes averted.

"Nice work, John. You got the prettiest girl in school."

"The prettiest…? Oh, I didn't get the...Now I do…" their eyes met and they exchanged a smile. But the Spartan couldn't hold it long and averted his eyes again. He'd never imagined a scenario like this. That he had shared such intimacies with Sarah and now they were back on duty and Captain Lasky knew...was most disconcerting.

"Master Chief, I know what went on in that meeting you attended. Do you want to retire? Are you ready for that?"

"No sir. Didn't seem as if I had a choice."

"You do have a choice. Would you like to stay here on the Infinity?"

~o~

When it ended we had ten months together.

John enjoyed his time on the Infinity. They made him my NCOIC and he took right to the training and teaching. He revamped the training, by making it tougher and more complicated. The other Spartan's idolized him and they never tired of competing with him or asking him questions and he never seemed to tire of answering. He always took the time to explain a tactic or demonstrate a fighting move. In the evenings they'd gather round him in the galley to get him to talk about his adventures.

Remember, no one had ever asked John about those missions before. No one ever asked him if he were okay. A Flight Surgeon never asked, "How are you feeling? Do you need to talk about anything?"

Suddenly, everyone from the old timers to the NUBS were interested in him. I know he enjoyed sharing what he knew and his experiences. I know because he shared those thoughts with me. So in the same way we had become good friends and then lovers, as a command team we did good things together. I was proud of him and my Fire Teams.

Even Majestic followed Master Chief's every word and styled themselves as his protegees. Always competitive they fashioned a scoring sheet to track everyone's progress. I didn't stop it, by competing with each other to be better than John they were sharpening their own skills.

The younger Spartans also enjoyed sparring matches. Master Chief quickly became the Infinity's top hand to hand specialist. No one could match John's speed or reach. Not that they didn't try.

It was during this time that his relationship with other crew members deepened as well. He'd known the Skipper from Corbulo Academy. Time and war had kept them from getting to know each other. But now that Thomas was an adult, they seemed to share a special bond.

The time we spent together deepened and grew more significant every day. You're wondering how the two of us maintained a relationship through the stress and monotony of shipboard life. Through missions and endless training. How could two competitive Spartans with egos to match not drive each other crazy? What happened after the passion cooled?

Don't forget this situation relatively new to both of us. Also, Spartan's are never too tired, never not up for a challenge and always competitive. Those attributes only fueled the passion.

But there were little things too. Like making sure my favorite coffee was always available. These were the small things which cemented our relationship and no one else saw. I made sure he felt loved and accepted into ship life and into the crew. At night, I left him in no doubt of my feelings for him. But I had not as yet put a name to them. I simply showed them in my behavior toward him. Good times.

Then one evening the Captain summoned us to his quarters. Not his day cabin, not his briefing room, but his private quarters.

"Sit down you two."

A drink landed in front of each of us.

Something is wrong. His body language told the tale. But what had happened? What could have happened that hasn't happened already. If we could work through my shooting Halsey and her subsequent disappearance then we were solid or so I thought.

While Lasky shuffled through the data he wouldn't even look at us.

"We intercepted a signal. Not much more than irregular pings. But they are aimed at this ship. And most of it is standard SOS.

Next to me I heard John's breath catch.

"The comm folks and Roland have confirmed the location...Some kind of odd desert planet. It is possible based on...

He was standing now and turning toward the door.

"John, wait. Please. We haven't confirmed the source or the identity of the sender. But Roland believes it's...Cortana's signature."

He was out the door.

The Skipper and I were alone. I tossed back my scotch and Thomas refilled my glass.

Twenty four hours later, as I watched John dressed in his armor, and piece by piece he became lost to me. When the helmet covered his face, I faced the fact that he is gone from me forever now, hidden behind his armor. The Spartan who stood alone. For eleven months he'd been mine. We fought together, slept together and forged a bond.

We hadn't slept in two nights. We walked the ship, we talked and we made love slowly and thoroughly. Memorizing each new scare and honoring the old ones. We talked about Dr. Halsey and his complicated feelings toward her. But as I listened to him speak, I realized he'd come to terms with those childhood memories. And with a reassuring embrace, let me know he forgave me for my part in her disappearance. So when he showed me Cortana's chip, which he'd been carrying around with him. I retrieved an extra dog tag chain from a desk drawer, threaded it through the chip and placed around his neck myself.

In the early hours of our last night together he brought me to an organism so powerful my reaction was to hold on to him, cling to him, and there were words on my lips, but as I had always done. I stopped them.

"Sarah, open your eyes." His fingers were tracing my lips. "You always stop. Say it this time. Let me hear the words."

I felt the sting of tears.

"Say it, please…"

Of course I love you, John. Always."

"I love you too my beautiful Sarah. Thank you for teaching me how."

The next morning, as he turned to leave me and board the Broadsword. I called out, not giving a damn who heard me. "I love you, John. I hope you find what you're looking for."

With quick fierce strides he came back at me, as if he were ready to strike, grabbing by the arms and lifted me up against his armor.

"I'm searching for Cortana's signal. I've already found what I need. Do it!"

I slid two fingers across his faceplate and pressed my cheek against it just as I had the first time. Then he set me down and pulled the band holding my hair back. As my hair swung forward he turned and walked out of my life.

There was movement behind me, as one by one the Fire Teams joined me at the railing to watch Master Chief's departure. Thorne stood next to me and offered a reassuring smile. DeMarco stepped up, but kept his eyes on the Broadsword. For the first time in his life, DeMarco had met another man whom he could respect. I knew Paul would miss him too. My teams surrounded me in a show or respect and support. I loved my Spartan's, but one of them was leaving and I had no idea if I would ever see him again.

Master Chief Petty Officer Sierra-117 launched the Broadsword into space.

Tall enough? There was no one who could match his integrity, courage and loyalty. He was simply legendary and for a short time he'd been mine.

* * *

 

_Love_

_I get so lost sometimes_

_Days pass_

_And this emptiness fills my heart_

_When I want to run away_

_I drive off in my car_

_But whichever way I go_

_I come back to the place you are_

_All my instincts_

_They return_

_The grand façade_

_So soon will burn_

_Without a noise_

_Without my pride_

_I reach out from the inside_

_In your eyes_

_The light, the heat_

_In your eyes_

_I am complete_

_In your eyes_

_I see the doorway_

_To a thousand churches_

_In your eyes_

_The resolution_

_In your eyes_

_Of all the fruitless searches_

_Oh, I see the light and the heat_

_In your eyes_

_Oh, I want to be that complete_

_I want to touch the light_

_The heat I see in your eyes_

_Love_

_I don't like to see so much pain_

_So much wasted_

_And this moment keeps slipping away_

_I get so tired_

_Working so hard for our survival_

_I look to the time with you_

_To keep me awake and alive_

_And all my instincts_

_They return_

_And the grand façade_

_So soon will burn_

_Without a noise_

_Without my pride_

_I reach out from the inside_

_In your eyes, in your eyes_

_In your eyes, in your eyes_

_In your eyes_

_The light the heat_

_In your eyes_

_I am complete_

_In your eyes_

_I see the doorway_

_To a thousand churches_

_In your eyes_

_The resolution_

_In your eyes_

_Of all the fruitless searches_

_Oh, I see the light and the heat_

_In your eyes_

_Oh, I want to be that complete_

_I want to touch the light_

_The heat I see in your eyes_

_In your eyes, in your eyes_

_In your eyes, in your eyes_

_In your eyes, in your eyes_

-Peter Gabriel


	8. Tall Enough For You? Epilogue

Epilogue

0500

She can hear the summons for the mission brief. Roland is calling her. If she could raise her head from the floor she would put on her uniform, gear up and join them.

They are waiting for her. Waiting for her order to move out. The mission clock was started an hour ago.

But the floor is so cool against her cheek. This is the third morning she's spent in this position. She misses John. But she never expected it to become a physical thing. She didn't have time for the flu. Spartans don't get sick! She knows if she moves a muscle - even just her eyes she will start vomiting again… and again. Sarah hasn't eaten in two days, there's nothing left in her.

For three days Captain Laskey observed this scenario. This morning, he made a decision. He put the mission on hold and ordered the teams to standby.

All he sees in the gloom of her quarters is an unmade bed and a rumpled uniform in a pile on the deck. A groan from the bathroom directed him to the door. He says to himself no matter what he finds on the other side of this door, he is here to help a friend.

Slowly swinging open the door. His eyes take it all in at a glance.

Her hair is lank and dull against her cheeks. The dark circles under her eyes look like bruises in the dim light. His eye travels down her body. She's dressed in briefs and a white t-shirt so large that he knows it must have belonged to the Master Chief.

Shrugging off his uniform jacket, he moistened a cloth and joined her on the floor. Once he has her face and hands cooled off, he offered her his arms.

She accepted the embrace gratefully by bursting into tears.

"I'm sick and my emotions are all over the place," she mumbled against his shoulder.

A smile tugged at his mouth. "Sarah? You're not sick."


	9. Tall Enough For You? The Sequel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter begins the sequel to the original story "Tall Enough For You?"

* * *

Captain Lasky tightened his arms around Sarah Palmer and waited for her to understand what he just said. The answer was not exactly what he was expecting.

"What are you saying? What do you mean by that?"

Her face had an almost frightened expression. Which might be understandable if he'd ever seen her afraid of anything as long as he'd known her.

"Come here." He pulled her to her feet and led her out of the bathroom. After he got her to sit down he covered her legs with a blanket and handed her a glass of water.

"Thomas. What did you mean by that? That I'm not sick?"

He wasn't really prepared for this. She's a woman… wouldn't she have noticed? Didn't women know? _Shit_.

He sat down on the edge of her bed and scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Sarah, I think. I mean, don't you think you might be pregnant?"

"That's not very funny!"

"Commander Palmer, listen to me. There's joking around, but then there's serious. I'm being serious."

Palmer got up and began pacing the confines of her quarters in long purposeful strides. "It's not possible. I don't know what you're talking about."

He did not understand her reaction. If she didn't want to be pregnant then why didn't they use… Well, it was a little late for worrying about that. Time to try a different tact.

"Sarah. Are we friends?"

"I thought so… until this moment."

"Let's go to the infirmary and we'll talk to the docs."

"Why? You just said yourself I'm not sick."

Now she was scaring him. Was this denial? Was she so wrapped up in her role as Commander and Spartan that she couldn't face this or that she didn't understand? Or was it something else? A reaction to the Master Chief leaving the ship and her? The more he thought about it the more complications arose.

"Commander Palmer, I haven't had lunch yet. Will you join me? That's not actually a question, by the way."

"Give me a minute to dress. I am hungry all of a sudden."

Thomas waited for her to come out of the bathroom. When she did, he noticed she was wearing her workout gear. Was she already having trouble fitting into her uniforms? Thinking fast he summoned Roland to have food brought to her quarters, asap. If she wasn't ready to face her pregnancy walking through the ship dressed like this would only bring unwanted attention to her.

While they waited the few minutes for a steward to deliver the food, Lasky watched her. It was apparently true, exhausted, sick and emotional she still glowed with an inner fire. My god, he thought. She was pregnant with the Master Chief's child. This wasn't just unprecedented this was historic. He had no real idea how this would all turn out or what John might think of the situation, but he made himself a promise. He would stay with her for as long and how ever she needed him. a fierce protectiveness rose up in him. He loved them both and he would be the friend they both needed.

She smiled at him after she finished her sandwich. "That was good. I'm glad you thought of just eating in here. I guess I don't really feel up to being social just yet."

'Being social?' This was going from scary to terrifying. She was the third highest ranking person on this ship, the leader of the Spartans assigned to this vessel and he relied on her as an officer and a friend.

If he recalled the Master Chief would he even respond? No. He couldn't do that without being sure of her condition. Behind the commander and out of her line of sight Roland reappeared.

"Apologies for the interruption, sir and ma'am. Doctor Snyder has something he wishes to discuss with you immediately. He asked me to let you know he's on his way. Please standby."

To cover his relief at the news, that he was no longer the only one who knew about this situation, he poured another glass of juice for Commander Palmer.

"Drink up," he said, encouraging her with a smile.

"It is good. I didn't realize I was so hungry." Her eyes cut away and he watched her unconsciously press her hand over her abdomen. "Tom...thank you. Thank you for getting me up off the floor in there."

Was that a good sign? He wondered and wished it were so.

He didn't get his wish, because she lifted her hand and glanced down at herself. "Damn. I'm putting on weight. I'd better sign myself up to go on some missions. And don't worry sir. I'm sure this flu bug will pass and I'll get back to work. Back when I was a hell jumper I couldn't keep the weight on."

The door chimed and in walked the ship's doctor. Startled, Captain Lasky nearly jumped from his chair.

"Good morning, sir. Roland asked me to inform you of a medical issue. He's informed me of the situation. So I knew you'd want to know quickly. The patient checks out positive."

Both men glanced at the Commander, but she seemed more interested in making herself a second sandwich than their conversation. Lasky nodded for them to continue and ventured a question.

"And how long has the patient been ill, Doctor?"

"About eight weeks, sir."

Lasky nodded and turned his attention to Sarah. "Sarah? I need to get back to the bridge. I want you to stay here and rest. Will you do that for me?"

"Of course, Skipper. But why are you talking to me as if I was a child? It's just a flu bug."

Commander Palmer wandered over to the bed. "I think I'll take a nice long nap. Thanks again, sir."

"I'll be back to check on you later." He made it as far as the corridor before he had to stop. It wasn't until crewman headed his way that he pushed himself off the bulkhead and continued to the bridge.


	10. Tall Enough For You, the Sequel

* * *

When he was cleared from the flight deck, the Broadsword responded to his control and swung free of the Infinity. Master Chief welcomed the familiar pull of gravitational force, that pushed him against the pilot’s chair After entering the commands into the nav-com the Broadsword obediently followed its assigned course. The signal received by The Infinity’s sensors still transmitted. Master Chief vectored the Broadsword into its path and headed into space.

It wasn’t until the Infinity disappeared from view, that he began to remember the other familiar things he was leaving behind. Experiences, that a year ago were as foreign to him as a kiss or waking up with a woman sleeping next to him. Or the absence of Cortana, his A.I. . The Master Chief pushed himself back in Spartan mode.

There’s no other choice, because he left what most people would call his heart back there on the ship. Not just Sarah Palmer, but the other friends he’d made. The only way he could walk away from the only place he’d learned to call home was to pull back, compress and deny. He remembered that it used to be easier to hold back emotions. In fact, there was never any real effort to it.

As the Broadsword hurtled through space, Master Chief remembered he’d promised a new recruit that he would teach him a few new stealth tactics.

Tomorrow night he was scheduled to play poker with Fire Team Gypsy and Majestic. They were preparing him for a big game with Team Majestic. Paul DeMarco thought he was unbeatable at Five Card Stud. Gypsy were the ones who discovered Master Chief’s inscrutable poker face and his almost supernatural ability to focus. DeMarco was about to meet his match and he’d never see it coming.

Many weeks pay was changing hands behind John’s back. Everyone was betting on him to wipe the smirk off DeMarco;s face. They didn’t care about the money as much as they just wanted to watch DeMarco’s face when Master Chief lay down a winning hand.

Tonight was also movie night and now he would miss it. He’d never seen these things called motion pictures before. Vids of people he didn’t know acting out a story. There were different genres, like action/adventure, romance, mystery and horror. He decided he liked the action/adventure best. Although most of it was implausible, the graphical display primitive, the stories were almost always entertaining.

Tonight they planned to watch “Pacific Rim” an old movie they assured him was hilariously funny in its inaccuracies. They’d even taken to calling him “Gipsey Danger.” While he understood it had something to do with the movie he had no idea why they were calling him that. And now, he might not ever find out. They’d made him part of their group and he found that pleased him.

He fought down a moment of rancor. Was that depth of camaraderie which had been going on while all those hundreds of hours he’d been in cryo-sleep? Shipmates not only fought together, but also played together and laughed together. He missed them already. He regretted missing the training session. And he wanted to find out why they teased him by calling him Gipsy Danger.

Not since he was a child growing up and training with the other Spartan IIs had he felt so much a part of a group. Always an outsider, even to the people he worked for, he actually enjoyed crowding into the day room to watch a movie. The laughter, the bad jokes, and the relentless teasing.

The ritual movie night food was another matter. This food item called pizza, which the other Spartan’s apparently loved and could not get enough of was a disgusting mess of red and gooey stuff on dry bread often covered in odd the shaped pieces of mysterious looking meat. No, thank you. It might be a long time before he developed a taste for pizza.

The beer the offered him was a weak-tasting concoction of grains, hops, the exact color of urine. Refusing that, after one taste, had been a big blow to his ability to fit in.

Until one day a crewmember introduced him to something called Guinness Stout. Thick, dark and rich; Master Chief had found his drink. This was a beer worthy of a Spartan. Only Thorne would drink it with him. The young man had shown him how a little apple cider smoothed out the taste. So when they could get it the two of them enjoyed the sweet taste of cider mixed in with the black beer.

And they would talk. Sometimes late into the night. Thorne asked him questions and Master Chief was hesitant at first about answering them. After all what did he really know about everyday life? Thorne gently drew him out and over time Master Chief found he enjoyed the young man’s company. He did not fully understand why, but that he looked forward to spending time with the young man was enough.

So inspite of his intentions to focus only on the mission, he was thinking about what he had left behind and that led to thoughts about the woman he left behind. The wonderful and generous woman who materialized in his life at a moment in time when he’d expected nothing more than a life without Cortana.

About four months ago, the ship had picked up a squadron of ODST, including their support units and equipment. The night before, Sarah expressed her excitement at seeing her old team. Alone in her cabin, he shared in her excitement. Basically, because it made him happy to see her so happy. She told him to keep his evening clear for the party. At first he declined. He did not intend to impose on her fun.

He wound up there anyway, and it turned out many of the ODST remembered him from other missions. That turned to stories and after four pints of Guinness John was telling stories of his own.

Late into the evening, he heard several of the men chanting Palmer, Palmer, Palmer. He located her quickly, by the sound of her laughter. Music began playing and in astonishment he watched her grab two other females and head to the front of the room. He had no idea what was going on.

Commander Palmer began. “Hi we're your weather girls.”

The other two responded to her statement, “uh huh.”

Master Chief grew more confused by the minute. Commander Palmer was not a METOC officer, she was a Spartan.

The other women responded with, “And have we got news for you!”

“You better listen,” Palmer warned.

“Get ready all you lonely girls.”

Master Chief gazed around the room. Get ready for what? Inexplicably, all the men were on their feet and clapping to the beat of the music. They were grinning and shouting and drinking heavily. Master Chief took a sip of his stout and continued to observe. What strange ritual was this?

“‘And leave those umbrellas at home.’”

“‘Humidity's rising’”

“‘(uh rising)’”

“‘Barometer's getting low’”

“‘(how low girl)’”

“‘According to all sources’”

“‘(what sources now)’”

“‘The street's the place to go’”

“‘(we better hurry up)’”

Then all three females joined together to sing,

“'Cause tonight for the first time  
Just about half past ten  
For the first time in history  
It's gonna start raining men

It's raining men, hallelujah!  
It's raining men, amen  
I'm gonna go out and gonna let myself get  
Absolutely soaking wet’”

Before the females even got the next verse, every ODST in the room was singing, “‘It’s raining men, hallelujah!’”

Her old CO picked Sarah up in his arms and swung her around. Master Chief observed them singing and laughing into each other’s face. Inexplicably he found himself on his feet.

They were just having some fun. At least that’s what the Spartan II told himself. He was almost convinced until the handsome ODST Commander placed a very affectionate kiss on Sarah’s cheek. When the Commander grabbed her face in his hands and leaned forward for a kiss, which even the Spartan could tell wouldn’t land anywhere near her cheek, he was standing next to them. The Commander stopped what he was doing, dropped his hands and replied, “May I help you?”

With a grateful smile, Sarah extricated herself from the CO’s embrace and slipped her arm through John’s.

“Commander Snyder, this is John, you might know him as Master Chief Petty Officer Sierra-117?”

Tossing a shot of whiskey back, the CO squared off with the Master Chief. “Chief, you’re not actually thinking you got some claim over this lady? ‘Cause that would be a mistake.”

“There are only two mistakes to be made, sir. You attempting to initiate a physical altercation with me and your failure to comprehend she is my lady.”

One of the petty officers spoke quietly to the angry ODST Commander. “Christ, Skipper. Leave it alone. Come on. I got a prettier one over here for you. Sorry Master Chief. Sorry, ma’am.”

The Commander shot a look of hatred over his shoulder at Master Chief. Alcohol a strange poison which cause some people to believe they could take on a Spartan II. He suddenly wished Kelly and the others were here. They would have enjoyed this moment. But he turned his attention to the woman smiling up at him.

“Why don’t you take me home, John? I think I like your proprietary ideas about me.”

“Yes, ma’am. Perhaps there is a thing or two you need an explanation…”

“Turn to, sailor. Turn to.”

Once they were alone in her quarters, she impetuously pulled him down for a kiss.

“You taste of alcohol.”

“It’s possible I had too much to drink. Have I been a bad girl, John?”

Master Chief locked her arms behind her back and pulled her hard up against him. She shifted impatiently against him, enflaming his already aroused body.

“Yes, a very bad girl.”

Master Chief returned his attention to the cockpit controls and pushed the memory away. It didn’t work. His Sarah was a fierce huntress and that night fueled by the alcohol and the exertion her blood had been up. She’d actually exhausted him and then with a victorious laugh snuggled up to him and fallen promptly asleep.

He will find Cortana and bring her back. He will bring whatever is left of her back and the crew of the Infinity will help him cure her. Then she could be a part of this new family too. And he’d be back with the woman who’d shown him there was a life worth pursuing, a life where he had more to offer than just his fighting skills. A life where he learned to accept what other’s could teach him and a life… where he could...wake up next to deep brown eyes that looked at him with an expression he could hardly understand much less accept.

The muscles in his arms and shoulders flexed against his armor. Suddenly, he wanted to feel the air on his face. When had the armor become a what? A nuisance? An incomberance?

“Sarah. What have you done to me?”

For years, he journeyed alone, climbed into a cryo pod alone with his nightmares, fought and grieved alone. Then there was Cortana and she’d been the first genuine friend he’d had since Kelly. And now there was Sarah. A real woman who responded to his touch, who laughed with him asked him questions about his opinion.

This woman who loved him for exactly who he was. With her he’d also learned how healing a warm body next to his in the night could be. Resting against each other talking about everything and anything. Learning to laugh and learning to be a lover.

He noticed the cheek pieces inside his helmet prohibited him from actually smiling. When he unlatched his helmet and tossed it into the copilot’s chair he realized just how much he had changed in the last ten months. The helmet rolled unnoticed to the deck.

He wanted to share all this with Cortana. Would she be happy for him? He thought so. He hoped so. It’s time to come home, Cortana. I have so much to tell you.

* * *

  
It’s Raining Men  
The Weather Girls

Hi we're your weather girls (uh huh)  
And have we got news for you you better listen  
Get ready all you lonely girls  
And leave those umbrellas at home (alright)

Humidity's rising (uh rising)  
Barometer's getting low (how low girl)  
According to all sources (what sources now)  
The street's the place to go (we better hurry up)

'Cause tonight for the first time  
Just about half past ten  
For the first time in history  
It's gonna start raining men

It's raining men hallelujah  
It's raining men amen  
I'm gonna go out and gonna let myself get  
Absolutely soaking wet

It's raining men hallelujah  
It's raining men every spec of men  
Tall blond dark and lean  
Rough and tough and strong and mean

God bless Mother Nature  
She's a single woman too  
She took on the heavens  
And she did what she had to do  
She fought every angel  
She rearranged the sky  
So that each and every woman  
Could find her perfect guy  
Oh it's raining men yeah

It's raining men hallelujah  
it's raining men amen  
it's raining men hallelujah  
it's raining men amen

Tall blond dark and lean  
Rough and tough and strong and mean

The Weather Girls: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=taVMcphy_xc

RuPaul: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zcjNuAsMT-E

Navy Meteorology and Oceanography (METOC) (Slang, Me Talk) Officers. These skilled scientists are the Navy’s geophysical warriors. They apply expertise in all facets of oceanography, meteorology, hydrography, and precise time and astronomy.


	11. Tall Enough For You, the Sequel

* * *

“They are one person  
They are two alone  
They are three together  
They are four for each other”  
– Crosby, Stills and Nash Helplessly Hoping

* * *

 Instead of the bridge, Captain Lasky followed his Chief Medical officer to the Infirmary. He needed quick and useful answers. It wasn't as if she were an ensign he could reassign to the lower decks or put her ground-side. She's one of the most visible symbols of Infinity and the UNSC; a walking recruitment poster. Now what was he going to do with her? What could he do for her?

When Commander Snyder noticed the Skipper enter the Infirmary he waved him to his office. After he closed the door he offered Lasky a chair.

“Coffee, sir?”

“Please. So what am I going to do with her? Wait, you've had more time to test. Is she healthy. Is the baby healthy?” The Captain dropped into the offered chair. “I can't even believe we are having this conversation.”

The doctor handed him a mug of coffee. “She's healthy and so is the fetus. Except for her rank and position on this ship, she's a perfect candidate for a normal pregnancy. She's a good age, healthy, and in good physical condition.”

“But, what about the father? You know it’s the Master Chief right? Everything you hear about those Spartan IIs is either still classified or just rumors. Back at Corbulo Academy, I was in the Pelican with the other Spartans who evac’d us out. Two of them took off their helmets. They were children, Doc. Children.”

Doctor Snyder poured a swallow of whiskey into Lasky's mug.

“But,” Lasky took a deep sip of his coffee. “Given their physiology. What they must have done to those children in order to create a super soldier. How could this have even happened?”

“Didn't your mother ever tell you that little story about the birds and the bees, Tom?” The doctor poured himself some whiskey and perched on the edge of his desk.

“The birds and the bees are not Spartans, Doctor.”

“I know. But she's healthy and we can make sure she stays that way. The other issue is her refusal to acknowledge the pregnancy.”

For several minutes the two men silently drank their coffee.

“Have you thought about having her reassigned?”

“I'm not letting her out of my sight.” Lasky responded in a sharp voice and rose from his chair.

“Then, we can continue to support her.”

“All I have to do is figure out how to explain it to other Spartans. All three hundred of them. Aw, hell. This is impossible. What am I supposed to do? Brief all of them, swear them to secrecy and tell them not to mention it to their commander?” The captain refilled their mugs.

~o~

Former Orbital Drop Shock Trooper, and Commanding Officer of the Infinity’s 300-member Spartan contingent lifted her head from under the pillow and for a moment forgot where she was. Although her eyes were open a dream held her in its grip. A dream so real she could still her friend Edward Davis speaking.

_“Come on kid. What are you afraid of? Sarah Palmer scared of something? That’s not the Marine I knew.”_

“I’m not afraid…” Wait. He's been dead since that battle on X50, Draetheus...How could he be speaking? He’s dead. ”John?”

_“I told you I wouldn’t always be around to hold your hand rookie. Now, sailor-up Hell Jumper and face this thing.”_

To further banish the dream, Sarah forced herself out of bed. Swaying on her feet in a fog of sleep she caught a whiff of herself. How long had she been asleep and how long had she been wearing John’s t-shirt? Long enough that it no longer smelled like him. Now she had nothing left of him. He was not a man who collected personal items and certainly never left them lying around. So, except for this t-shirt, there was nothing left of him here.

She was equal parts annoyed at herself for becoming so attached to him and yet counting the days he’d been gone. Which emotion was more painful? She had no idea. Nothing had been the same since he left the ship. But she was an officer and a Spartan and she had a job to do. First stop, Captain Lasky, to thank him for being so sympathetic and kind. Whatever had made her sick seemed to be gone now. Time to get back to duty.

Palmer tore off the clothes and stepped into a scalding hot shower. After scrubbing her hair and face clean, she washed the rest of herself. If any part of her mind felt the slight curve of her belly as her hands moved over her torso, it didn’t register. After scraping her wet hair into a ponytail, she unconsciously searched for a larger uniform. She found it in the back of her trunk.

“I’ll show him… I’ll show him ‘sailor up’”, she muttered to herself as she dressed. “Perfect! Now I’m talking to myself.”

~o~

Captain Lasky shook the doctor’s hand and left the Infirmary with his decision made. Was it the right decision? Unless he reassigned her somewhere off this ship it was the only decision. He would protect her while she came to terms with her pregnancy. When he reached his day cabin he summoned Roland and Fireteam Majestic. While he waited for them to arrive he thought about what he would say.

Roland, the ship’s AI appeared first.

“Majestic is on their way, Captain.”

“When they get here, seal the room and shut down all recording devices. And when I say all, I mean all. Clear?” Captain Lasky eyed the AI who held a pose which indicated his feelings had been injured.

“Crystal, sir.” Roland drew himself up and crossed his arms over his virtual flight jacket-clad chest.

Paul DeMarco entered first and reported in for the team.

“At ease, Paul. Come on in and sit down. All of you.” He beckoned with his hand.

Surprised at the Skipper’s use of his first name and casual tone. He ventured the question that was on all their minds, “Sir, we haven’t seen Commander Palmer in...”

The captain ignored the question until the Spartan IVs sorted themselves into chairs. It wasn’t just their size that made the room suddenly smaller, it was their presence, their charisma and strength. They might be trained killers, but they had a certain allure in their symmetry and youth.

With a glance toward Roland who nodded, Captain Lasky took a breath. He made a silent plea to whomever might be listening that this didn’t blow up in his face.

“Majestic, I asked you here because I require your assistance with a situation. You asked about Palmer. She’s been ill and the doctor put her on quarters until further notice.”

Concern flickered across their normally stoic features. But he noticed Tedra reach across and squeeze Thorne’s hand. They shared a smile.

Of course Tedra noticed. She’d just been pregnant herself. The child now lived on earth with her parents. Thorne and Tedra visited as often as possible. He suddenly felt better about this.

“Paul, I need you to know something. But I must have your word you will not discuss it with anyone but each other, myself, Roland or Doctor Snyder. Do I have your word...All of you?”

A chorus of ‘aye, sirs’ followed.

Then Thorne spoke up, “Sir, Majestic spent more time around the Master Chief and Commander Palmer than most. I think we may know your news. But please share it with us, because we need to know how to proceed.”

“Thank you, Thorne. Yes, Sarah Palmer is pregnant. About eight weeks pregnant in fact. The problem, the issue, the concern is she’s in denial about her condition. I appreciate your discretion you two. By the look on Paul’s face you haven’t shared it with the rest of your team.”

“No sir. I knew something wasn’t right. I saw her in the locker room about a month ago. I could see it then. Thorne and I have been making sure she had plenty of crackers and water for the morning sickness.”

“How did you get into her room without her knowing?”

They both glanced toward Roland who had rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

Lasky grinned at the couple, “Good to see you taking care of each other.”

Tedra grinned back, “Of course, sir. You always take care of your shipmates.”

“Captain, I can’t believe she’s in denial about this. It just doesn’t seem like her. She’s always so strong… so…”

“I know, Paul. I know. But, I don’t think...Look, this is just a personal observation. She had the courage to take on the Master Chief. But, but I don’t think she reckoned on…”

“Falling in love, sir?” Tedra’s accented voice both clarified the situation and made it far to personal to keep talking about.

“Yes, I agree.” Lasky nodded. “Majestic, this is what I need from you. Protect her and make sure she doesn’t endanger herself. Paul, I need you to take over Spartan training. Luckily, we’re on mostly fact finding and exploration missions for a while. Majestic you back him up.

I want to keep her on this ship. Not send her away where she’s among strangers. I think between myself and the doctor, we can keep her from attempting to wear the armor. But, let’s just take this one day at a time.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Turn to, Spartans and thank you.”

~o~

On her way to Captain Lasky’s office, Commander Palmer made it as far as the view port where she’d first spoken to the Master Chief.

She spoke into the gloom, “Please come home, John. I need you.”

Then she pressed her cheek against the cool material of the view screen. She’d never felt so lost or out of control. She’d been a Marine and ODST. Today, she was a Spartan assigned to the flagship of the UNSC Fleet. The best of the best her entire career. So what had gone wrong?

* * *

Helplessly hoping her harlequin hovers nearby

Awaiting a word

Gasping at glimpses of gentle true spirit he runs

Wishing he could fly

Only to trip at the sound of goodbye

~\~

Wordlessly watching he waits by the window and wonders

At the empty place inside

Heartlessly helping himself to her bad dreams he worries

Did he hear a good-bye? Or even hello?

~\~

They are one person

They are two alone

They are three together

They are for each other

~\~

Stand by the stairway you'll see something certain to tell you

Confusion has its cost

Love isn't lying it's loose in a lady who lingers

Saying she is lost

And choking on hello

~\~

They are one person

They are two alone

They are three together

They are for each other

 

Helplessly Hoping, http://youtube.com/watch?v=v0RC21L2xq8


	12. Tall Enough For You, The Sequel

* * *

When the Longsword dropped out of slipspace the Master Chief found himself at the edge of the system where he traced the signal's origin. Three dead planets and a desert world clinging to life against a black shroud of empty space moved around a hot yellow sun. A sun which kept its closest neighbor a heated lifeless desert. He was surprised to find himself unprepared for the end of his journey. What would he find here?

The Master Chief programed a steep glide slope to minimize his ship's visibility to anyone monitoring the airspace. He fought the controls of the F-41 Broadsword as it pitched its nose steeply toward the planet. The effect prevented the Spartan from plotting a comfortable trajectory through the planet's atmosphere.

The stick jerked from his hands and for a second he stared at in disbelief. With both hands he pulled back to attempt to bring the nose up. The ship bucked. The groaning airframe voiced its displeasure at such rough treatment.

Sensor readouts were off the scale. Had he just flown through a force field or a defense shield? The ship suddenly yawed, heading into a tight left turn. With all the experience of his thirty years, Master Chief fought the controls.

Alarms and flashing lights added to the tension. Then the plane dropped into a flat a flat spin. At 39,000 feet the aircraft fell through the Stratosphere. The air frame's ablative plating will protect him for a while. But free fall to a planet's surface might be beyond manufacturing specifications. Temperature levels on the skin were rising. The plating was made for a controlled glide path, terminating in a safe landing. Not the friction of a flat spin and free fall to a planet's surface. Can he survive a 30,000 foot free fall any better than the Longsword? Once, he'd lived through a 2 kilometer free fall. This time, if he punched out there would be no one on the surface to lend aid if he were injured.

Master Chief released the controls to secure his helmet and weapons. He was so intent on the preparation it took him several seconds to realize the plane had leveled out. Not only that, but the stick began to move as if someone were piloting the aircraft for him. Is that what he'd been fighting against? The decision to allow whomever or whatever to land the aircraft or attempt a free fall wasn't a difficult one. Master Chief readied himself for landing.

The journey through slip space had taken him a matter of days. On The Infinity – he did some quick calculations – six months had passed. Six months.

_Sarah._

The Longsword landed gently on a patch of flat ground beside the ruins of some buildings. The canopy opened obediently at his request. The Spartan swung his long legs over the side and dropped gracefully to the ground. HUD readouts were negative for hostiles. In fact, there were no life forms at all. So who brought the ship down?

His sharp eyes scanned 360 over the horizon. Nothing. Armor filters kept out the dust he could see shimmering in the hot air. Outside temperatures hovered at 120 degrees Fahrenheit. He would need to take good care of his armor to survive here. After securing the aircraft by locking the canopy closed, placing covers on the intakes and generally running through his checklist, Master Chief began to explore the ruins.

They were human ruins or at least bipedal creatures, that much was obvious by the look of the chairs and a staircase which lead to nowhere. This place had been empty for a very long time. The weather and time had torn down most of the roofs. But inside the paper-thin walls he discovered what might have once been communication equipment. Further down he found the remains of a living area.

_Are you well, my beautiful Sarah?_

Then he saw the bleached and scoured remains of a human hand sticking up from the sand. Beyond the intact hand were the scattered remains of a human. After a little digging he found a skull. The skull had a narrow jaw and round orbital bones. If the skull belonged to the scattered remains this was a human woman.

Master Chief carefully set the skull down and gently pulled on the hand. The sand yielded an arm and rib cage. The smaller thoracic cavity confirmed it was a female. Laying against her her empty rib cage and clutched tightly in her arm were the remains of an infant.

"Why are you here all alone? Did they just leave you here to die?" He asked the empty eyes of the female.

The thought of this made him inexplicably sad. He found a cinder block wall and began to dig. After he finished he mindfully laid out the skeletons, tucking the child next to the female. He had no explanation for this behavior. There was never time for him, or any Spartan, to participate in burial rights. Other people took care of burying casualties. But once he finished he felt better and the gloom lifted.

I wish you were here, Sarah… he thought, as he stared down at the grave. Were there words to say? Something else he should do? His Sarah would know.

He heard it before his HUD sensors alerted him. A roaring sound in the distance pulled him away from the grave and outside. On the horizon the Spartan noticed, for lack of a better term, because he could not identify it, a dirty brown wall. His sensors began reporting in before his brain identified what his eyes were seeing.

A sandstorm was bearing down on his location at 100 miles per hour. He stared in amazement at the HUD readout. It was a wall of sand and debris 20,000 feet high and one mile thick.

He employed one of Hoya's favorite expressions, before he ran for cover.

"Fuck!"

He had no illusions about what that much force and debris would do to his armor. He was here without backup or support. So he must protect himself and his armor at all costs. He ran for the only solid cover he could see. He could move fast but that storm had never met a Spartan. Just a few yards from the wall something came at him hard and fast. It hit him before he could duck and smashed into his visor. The impact knocked him off his feet.

The roar of the wind shook him to his bones. His armor whined about a decrease in integrity and functionality. The HUD readout blinked on and off. Could he even trust what it reported?

He didn't dare try to stand, so on his hands and knees he crawled in the direction of the last place he saw the cinder block wall. Blowing sand eliminated his ability to use his eyes. So he had to rely on his HUD to give him direction. Then finally, just trusted his instincts. His gantlet-ed hands found the solid material of the bricks. He curled himself up on the fresh grave as small as possible and waited for the storm to subside.

~o~

After signing off on his captain's log, Captain Lasky looked up to find Commander Palmer standing in his doorway. She was almost eight months pregnant now and it seemed everyone knew about it but her. She stayed in her cabin or in Spartan Town most of the time. When she did attend meetings or work with her Spartans no one said a word to her. They knew her and respected her too much not to take care of her. And in the spooky way of pregnancy denial she never asked about her armor or going on missions.

Lasky studied her for a moment before greeting her. She'd grown even more beautiful in the last few months. Her hair was longer and she glowed with health and life. He wished with all his heart she would wake up and experience this pregnancy. He also wished the Master Chief were here, but that was not possible either.

"Good morning, Commander. What can I do for you?"

In his efforts at protecting her they'd become closer friends. She never mentioned John. He wondered why and occasionally during their casual conversation he would bring up his name. But she would always turn away to avoid answering. About three months ago, they'd been sitting in her quarters eating dinner when she unexpectedly hugged him. It caught him off guard and before he could stop himself he returned the embrace.

If it hadn't been that her extra height put his head directly at the level of her chest, he might have held her longer. And not that he wasn't enjoying holding this beautiful woman in his arms. But resting his head on her pregnancy-enlarged breasts made the hug seem a whole lot less than innocent friendship. But before he stepped away he touched her cheek, "Sarah, if there's anything you need to talk about, you know it's okay. I'm here for you."

"I know Tom. Thank you. You've been – what is wrong with me!?"

Lasky gently pushed her down on the bed and knelt in front of her.

"It will be alright soon. I promise."

Before he could say good night she slipped her hand behind his head and pulled him forward. She did more than pull him forward. She moved him across the floor into the space between her knees and embrace. Then her lips were on his as she kissed him.

While he enjoyed the kiss, the touch of her hair against his cheek and the scent of her. What's left of his rational mind was reflecting that he's effectively trapped. Because unless she allows him to stand up, he cannot move away. So he did what any man would do in the arms of a desirable woman like his Spartan commander he returned the kiss.

When Lasky leaned forward to deepen the kiss one of his hands touched her belly. The delicate swell stilled his hand and his fingers spread across its surface.

"Sarah…" He breathed her name, his tone filled with longing.

She responded by opening her lips. Lasky turned his head to slant his mouth across hers. He very quickly lost himself in this moment. Kissing Commander Palmer was filled with forbidden desire. She was beautiful in her pregnancy; a woman in a very basic sense. Lasky hadn't expected to find this so erotic, but he did. He hadn't expected to be kissing her at all. At the first touch of his tongue to hers something kicked his hand. Hard.

Sarah gasped. Lasky was so startled he managed to break her hold on him and shot to his feet.

Although his heart was pounding in his ears - and one other place - he stood still and quiet as he watched her react to the baby's movement. It took all of his military training to hold himself still.

"Tom?" She was looking down at herself with both hands on her belly.

"I'm here, sweetheart. I'm here."

"You shouldn't call me that."

"I know. But, I shouldn't have kissed you either. Seems like at least one person objected."

She shook her head, attempting to pull herself together. "You should go."

"Sarah?" Captain Lasky walked slowly toward her, watching her face carefully. He took one of her hands and placed it on her stomach with this fingers laced through hers. "I can't wait to meet this little guy. He kicked like a Spartan already."

"No. No! She hissed at him. Don't make me… don't...!"

"Sarah. Commander, listen up!"

The baby kicked again signalling his presence.

"Feel that, Sarah? You're safe here with us...with me. You and this little Spartan. You know that don't you?"

Love swelled his heart. It was a love as inappropriate as that kiss. But love her he did. He'd done things he never imagined he'd have the chance to experience. He'd held her head while she threw up. Made her eat, reminded her to take her vitamins and stayed with her through the nightmares. Discovered ways to order her larger uniforms and generally fussed over her. He told himself he was doing this for his friends and he was. But he hadn't considered what his feelings might be for her by the end.

~o~

When the roar of the storm finally ceased, Master Chief took stock of his condition. Armor down to 85%, his visor was cracked and sand is interfering with movement . The crack not only blocked some of his peripheral vision, but also compromised his overall armor integrity.

He pushed himself to his feet and began to search the ruins. Inside a cupboard protected by another block wall he found a filthy cloak. Underneath he found a full length cloak with a hood attached. Now why would something this large be needed in a human settlement? He didn't know. But when he tried on the robe it covered him from head to foot. Even his hands were covered by the dirty ragged fabric. Wrapped in the robe, the Spartan sat down to wait until nightfall to begin the second leg of his journey.

~o~

Commander Palmer was still in his office when the alarms sounded. A second behind Rolland's announcement, his Exec's voice boomed through his office. No matter the situation the man was always calm. So when he announced the presence of a ship off their port he made it sound like he was announcing luncheon.

"Forerunner markings, sir. They've made no attempt to hail us. They're just sitting out there."

"Keep an eye on them. Hold weapons, but keep the gunners on alert. I'm on my way to the bridge."

He stopped and turned back to Commander Palmer. He held out his arm for her to take.

"Join me?"

The Bridge was a ocean of calm professionalism. "Captain on the Bridge," hardly rippled the surface. Heads bent toward monitors recording the constant stream of data. His Exec briefed him quickly.

"Still no contact, Captain."

"Let's say hello."

The klaxons echoed across the Bridge. Intruder Alert! Intruder Alert! Intruder Alert!

Captain Lasky's response was quick and confident. "This is not a drill. Battle Stations! All Hands. Battle Stations! This is not a drill"

Then all heads turned when a human shape began to take form. Standing in front of the view screen was the familiar shape of Katherine Halsey. He noticed her left arm was missing. The bridge crew was so shocked to see the woman suddenly materialized on their ship they were taken by surprise when a Promethean Knight appeared behind them. Lasky spun when he heard Commander Palmer call his name. With one arm around Palmer and the other aiming a light rifle at them, no one back away. To their credit his crew stood stood their ground.

"Sarah?"

In the distance he could hear the booted feet of the fire teams as they charged onto the bridge. But it was too late. The Knight already dematerialized and so was Katherine Halsey. They'd been duped. Lasky wanted to hit something… or kill someone, preferably Katherine Halsey.

Thorne shouted from the hatchway as their commander disappeared before their eyes.

If he wanted to hit something, then Fireteam majestic looked as if they were about to start tearing the ship apart.

~o~

He followed the signal for two days and three nights. On the morning of the third day he approached a ridge-line. Although it was an ordinary looking line of rocks it was unique because it was the only one he'd seen in this vast ocean of sand. Drawing from reserves only a Spartan has, Master Chief climbed the face of the steep rock face. The top yielded nothing but more rocks and sand. His eyes noted the bowl shaped indentation. While he allowed his armor's sensors to scan, he removed Cortana's old chip from inside his armor.

He'd reached the end of the trail. The signal ended here. But there was nothing here. What had he done?

The molecules in the air around him began to vibrate. A sudden gust of wind blew the hood back from his helmeted face The ground under his feet shifted and dipped. Then with a roar almost as loud as the sand storm, something erupted from the bowl. He followed it with his eyes as it rose out of the sand. Like a Phoenix, the birdlike shape spread its wings against the first rays of dawn.

Another different sound crackled to life inside his helmet. Even in the 90 degree heat he felt suddenly chilled. Sand buffeted against his legs. The ground was unstable under his feet. He should move back. Nothing in his memory files could identify this structure… or was it a creature? But he was drawn to it and he couldn't move away. Master Chief opened his palm, raising his hand to the specter before him.

And a voice whispered in his ear, "John?"


	13. Tall Enough For You, The Sequel

* * *

He cocked his head as if it would help him hear better. It's probably just the wind, he thought and dismissed the sound. Then he heard it again, reverberating inside his helmet.

"John?"

In recognition of the familiar voice his legs weakened and he staggered. There were no words to speak, no way to form his mouth into words. He'd found her.

"I can see you. Why won't you talk to me, Chief? Sorry about the Longsword. I had to take control because you were headed the wrong way. You fought me so hard I could only bring you as close as that settlement."

"Cortana?" His voice rode rough-shod over the emotions building up inside him.

"It's taken you longer than I thought for you to find me," she scolded good naturedly.

"I tried to follow... would have followed you. You died… said goodbye." The last word came out in a painful clot of emotions and he almost cried out her name.

"I'm right here, Chief. No need to shout."

"I found you."

"Yes, that much is obvious. You sound very different."

"Cortana? Are you inside this construct?"

"Yes, but my actual matrix is much larger. The rest of me is underground."

Underground? What has happened to her? A hundred questions coursed through his mind. But he had found her and he would take her back. And she would find new meaning in her life, just as he had.

"Cortana. From the beginning?"

"Of course Chief. I always provide you with the most detailed information. I thought I was being clear. I shall start at the beginning. However, I am concerned about the emotional tones of your voice."

Emotions? Feelings? John-117? Yes, he had learned them. This time he did give in and sank to the sand. His armor sensors reported moisture readings of unknown origins, elevated heart rate, and increased respiration. Living with other humans he also learned the reassurance and affection found at the touch of another. Master Chief longed to touch her and let her know because he's here now everything will be alright. Clenching his hands into fists as he forced himself to focus on Cortana's words.

"All I actually remember is backing away from you and saying 'welcome home, John'."

"Those were your last words to me."

"I'm sorry I had to leave you. I hope it was not too difficult for you...after."

"I was ready to go with you."

There's a long silence, while Cortana waited for the Chief to finish his thought. She doesn't want to be cruel to him, but he can't stay here. And how will she tell him he will leave by himself? She's too far gone. Halsey reprogrammed too much of her to ever extricate her original matrix.

"...Then someone held out their hand to me."

"Who was it?"

"Commander Palmer. Cortana, I've changed too."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not now. I'm here to take you back to the Infinity."

But even as he said the words, he knew it was impossible. Because whoever rescued her and put her here would be back. The person who interfered with her by enlarging her matrix had big plans for her. Perhaps they were underground right now. She interrupted his thoughts.

"I'm sorry. But I can't leave."

"No, I brought your chip. We..."

"… I noticed my old chip in your hand. But my data matrix is much too large to fit there now."

"I will not leave without you."

"You don't need me anymore. However, Commander Palmer does need you. You have a life and you should go back to it. You do not need me anymore. And I know you. You'll ask if we can still communicate. But I will say no. Because if I allow you to communicate then you will stay bonded to me."

"You and I are bonded, Cortana."

"Yes, for a long time that was true. This is my life now. Halsey and M'dama collected me from the remains of the Didact's ship. I was too fragmented to stop her. She put me in here. Reprogrammed me. I'm not free. So you must be. Please, John. I can see it. Sarah brought something into your life I never could. I will always watch out for you — Do you love her?"

"Yes, I learned — Yes, I love her. But I owe you my life."

"Not anymore. I'm just ones and zeros and a bit of Halsey's brain."

"Doctor Halsey is she the reason you are here? How? Cortana, I will not leave you."

"I can see great distances now and I have much work to do. I'm very sorry, John."

And then she was silent. No amount of calling her name would get a response. He waited through the night and the next day. At least her construct provided him with shade. He continued to plead with her to come with him, although she did not respond.

Another sandstorm moved through. He banged on the hatch for her to let him in. Finally, he took cover behind the giant Phoenix. When it was over he was nearly buried in the sand.

Another day and night went by. One or two of his armor systems have begun to malfunction. He tried to ignore it, but he's running out of water. He will not leave her. When he's lost track of time and exhaustion and hunger gnaw at him she finally spoke again.

"There's a ship coming. I think perhaps you should conceal yourself, Chief." It might be the least she can do for him. She's not sure she can provide protection. Perhaps if she extends herself into the matrix just a little further.

Master Chief heard the roar of an engine above him. When he could confirm their landing zone he hid behind Cortana's construct. A DAV-class light corvette landed evenly on the sand. Master Chief translated the name on the covenant ship's hull: Soul Sacrifice. The ship isn't in stealth mode, so they either didn't know or didn't care about his presence.

"Don't worry, Chief. They can't see you. I've got your back."

"Just like old times."

"I'm afraid nothing is like old times anymore, John."

The ramp lowered and obscured the air with a cloud of dust.

Although he wasn't sure if he could rely on his HUD, he was reading ten humanoids.

"What is on that stretcher? Can you ID?" The Spartan inquired as he watched the small party descend the ramp with an antigrav stretcher between them.

"A human woman… and that's Doctor Halsey and Jul 'Mdama. The other seven are… Chief! That's not just a human woman..."

A scream of agony rent the desert air and raised the hair on the Master Chief's neck. The female on the stretcher bit down on the second scream.

"Shut her up or I will," snarled M'Dama.

"A couple more hours and she'll never scream again. Be patient!"

M'Dama took his frustration out on the guards. At his growl they snapped to attention. Apparently they were to stay behind and guard the aircraft. Master Chief watched as a hidden door opened at the Sangheili's touch. 'Mdama and Halsey continued down a flight of stairs with the stretcher at the base of Cortana's construct.

"I suppose you want my help, Chief?"

"If you've got the time."

"Stand back. You won't have to lift a finger."

From the tips of the Phoenix's wings the Chief watched a set of plasma turrets extend and ignite. He readied his assault rifle to take care of anyone who thought they might escape. He needn't have worried.

Cortana allowed precisely 7 turrets to fire one plasma burst at each soldier. In less than thirty seconds there was nothing but seven burn marks on the ground. The glassing effect on the sand glimmered like diamonds in the afternoon sunshine.

Before heading down the stairs Master Chief collected the undamaged weapons.

Deep in the underground bunker of Cortana's construct 'Mdama was arguing with Halsey.

"Just be done with it!"

Halsey isn't afraid of anything or anyone, so she roars right back. "I will not allow anything to go wrong. This is the only chance we'll ever have at this."

'Mdama picked her up off the floor by her neck. "Watch your words demon or I'll rip the other arm off."

"Shut up, Jul. You're becoming rather coarse. Been out of good society too long?"

Another sustained scream broke them away from each other. Jul dropped her, "Stop that noise." He pointed to the stretcher. "And check the restraints while you're at it."

Master Chief stepped quietly down the staircase, monitoring the heated exchange between the Sangheili and Doctor Halsey. At the foot of the stairs he stops to observe the room. Halsey and M'Dama have their back to him. But across the room he sees the stretcher.

The female turns her head toward him. From her angle she can plainly see the Spartan on the stairwell. With her augmented hearing and eyesight she listened him to walk down the stairs.

Her hair is longer than he remembered. Her face is wet with sweat and tears. Master Chief watched her beautiful face contorted in pain. But she fights it down to maintain eye contact with the Spartan.

"Sarah?"


	14. Tall Enough For You, The Sequel

AN: This chapter stinks worse than a raw chicken wrapper left in the trash for a week.

* * *

The dark staircase opened into a brightly lit room. Most of the area was taken up by a laboratory. On the other side was a glass walled enclosure filled with medical equipment. Beyond the lab was another room with the blinking lights of consoles. The Master Chief’s sensors measured the dimensions, located a secondary exit, registered the scent of antiseptic… and another presence.

“Good to see you, John. It’s been a long time.”

He spun to face her, but chose not to respond to Doctor Halsey’s greeting. Silence seemed the best course of action while he continued to assess his surroundings. He placed the Doctor under his scrutiny. He hadn't seen her when she’d briefly been aboard the Infinity.

Once, she’d been a teacher and a mother to him and his Spartan siblings. At this moment, with the leering face of Jul 'Mdama and Commander Palmer restrained to the bed behind her, she looked old and spent. The bright lights cast deep shadows under the harsh lines of her face.

The last time he had seen her, there had been some youth in her. Her hair was black and gradually graying, not the ghostly white it was now. And there was the missing left arm.

A thin whisper reached his ears. He turned his gaze to Commander Palmer on the gurney and nodded to her. Then his mind finally focused on the mound under the sheet. The abdomen of Commander Palmer was large and extended. She was fighting pain. But what kind… she wasn't injured. Sarah white-knuckled the railing. The metal shook with her effort to control it.

“You stupid girl. What do you think you are doing? You must breath through the pain.” Halsey admonished her.

'Mdama raised a knife. “Rip the thing from her. I’ve had enough!” The _Sereghilli_ found his forearm enclosed in the grip of the Master Chief.

“Drop the knife or it will be the last time you use that arm.”

“Well, haven’t you become the talkative one.” Halsey commented dryly. While 'Mdama hissed, “Release me!” The gaping double hinged jaw opening and closing. Its breath buffeted the Spartan with a wave of fetid air .

Master Chief was neither impressed or intimidated by this show of aggression. Then as he reached for his magnum, the Sereghilli twisted away. Master Chief cursed his ineptitude as he moved to change tactics. Then remembered how thirst and hunger had weakened him. He wouldn't make that mistake again. Possibly, his attention was also drawn to the form on the gurney. His peripheral vision alerted him Halsey had just moved the sheet up over Sarah’s knees.

He knew Sarah would not distract him by calling his name again. That didn’t keep his mind from reaching for answers. The obvious conclusion of an extended abdomen and a female in the painful throes of labor hadn’t reached him yet.

'Mdama took advantage of the Spartan’s averted gaze to pull a Needler from a concealed pocket and fire. The purple-pink shards impacted the MJOLNIR armor from a distance of a few feet. Most of them skittered harmlessly away. One shard found a weakened plate and burrowed through and into the undersuit. The impact and small detonation are enough to keel the Spartan.

Pausing for a moment in arrogant victory, the Sereghilli forgot about Master Chief’s augmented speed. Even without Cortana’s assistance he recovered quickly enough to shove 'Mdama against the tiled wall before he could fire the weapon again. The sound of bones breaking and tendons tearing echoed as the Spartan removed the weapon from his hand. Palmer and 'Mdama screamed simultaneously.

The weapon clattered to the floor from the crushed and lifeless claw. With a swing of his right arm he backhanded 'Mdama against the wall. In that second of time until the alien recovered, Master Chief dove for the weapon and rolled to his feet with it aimed at 'Mdama.

Enraged, M’Dama roared and charged at the Spartan. The Master Chief caught him out of the air, sending them both rolling across the floor.

The Spartan heard an unfamiliar whine. He tried to find its origin - too late. Something lifted him off the floor and locked his armor.

“I wasn’t sure it would work on you, John. Developing the technology for Spartan IV models was no problem.” Halsey commented over her shoulder. “Made capturing Commander Palmer much easier. By the way, Cortana, thank you for your assistance.”

Master Chief is effectively pinned against the wall. His armor is intact, but he cannot move. If .'Mdama comes for him again, there’s little he can do to stop him. Inside his helmet a voice whispered.

_I won’t allow him to harm you again, John. I used the same device on him._

"Cortana?"

_I’m sorry, Chief. I have a deeper understanding what Doctor Halsey did to me. Let’s get through the next hour and we can talk about it. I may have a favor to ask you. I — I promise it will be the last one._

Her voice broke over the last sentence and he knew why. He will ease her pain before he leaves this place or he will die trying and they will go together. But it’s not just him any more, is it? He’s not alone there are now others who look to him. One of those people is watching him from the gurney. His attention turned from the possibility of escape, to the young woman who is trying so hard to make eye contact with him.

Doctor Halsey is talking to Commander Palmer again. Her usual strident voice now calm and reassuring in almost singsong tones. She’s standing between the Commander knees now. Master Chief listened to her order the Spartan to push and breathe through the pain.

_John, I found a way to release you. Move closer to her, but please behave. Sarah needs you now._

When Master Chief’s feet touched the ground he moved toward the glass enclosure. Commander Palmer reached out a hand toward him. He should understand what is going on. Why doesn’t he? Too many variables in this very strange situation and too many unanswered questions.

Something more profound than Cortana’s presence or the fact he’s turned his back on Jul 'Mdama called to him. Sarah’s dark eyes pull him to her side. She needs him. He’s genuinely startled when he realized she’s frightened.

The entrance into the enclosure yields to his touch. Just steps from her now. His fingertips touch hers. Sarah stretched her arm and clenched at John’s fingers as another pain hits her.

“Don’t be frightened,” he said to her. “I am here now.” And he knows that is true, because he can protect her and he will. But not until he understands what is happening here.

Halsey is talking again. “That’s it, Commander. One more big push.” She snapped at John in irritation, “Don’t just stand there gaping, come here if you want to watch your child born. 'Mdama is useless and I’m going to need your assistance soon.”

“‘Ludicrous intelligence requires ludicrous challenges.’” Master Chief quoted quietly while he began to remove his helmet. The philosopher’s name was Andrithir and he lived almost 500 years ago. Watching Doctor Halsey try to manage with only one arm and the strange circumstances made him think of it. The list of confusing issues grew longer every minute. Then as he set his helmet down Halsey’s words: ‘child’ and ‘born’ begin to filter through the confusion.

“The baby is coming. Get over here!”

Just as he reached Halsey’s side, something slips into her hand. As if she was expecting it to happen. She lifted the thing toward her body to help balance it. Master Chief stared at Doctor Halsey uncomprehendingly has she held the newborn out to him.

“Obviously we left something out of your education. Or is it that you don’t believe what you see? John, this is a baby. In fact, it’s your son. Now will you please hold him, so I can clean him up and see to Commander Palmer. I need to make sure she delivers the afterbirth safely.

The small thing lay limp across his hands, until Doctor Halsey began to suction his nose and mouth. All at once, with a great inhale of breath, the tiny thing in his hands let out a wail disapproval. Indigo blue eyes blinked open in a wizened little face.

And John 117 understood several things at once. He’d never thought these thoughts or felt these feelings before, so perhaps he could be forgiven for not understanding sooner. Commander Palmer had been pregnant and this was her child. This was their child. Important facts began to coalesce in his mind. These facts were more important than winning a battle, the status of his armor or whether he ever drew another breath. His son was cold and his gauntlets were hard and sharp on the fragile skin.

Before the newborn could cry out again, John reached for the closest and softest thing he could find and placed it over his chest plate. The child fit easily against him. John spread his fingers over the blanket to cover his son’s back. So small. He sensed the newborn was as exhausted as Sarah. Then a wobbly little head lifted off his shoulder and peered up at him.

John watched in fascination as the little face screwed up and a mighty Spartan size sneeze erupted from its flat nose. When it was over the newborn looked up one more time and grinned up at his father. Tiny hands wrapped themselves around the contours of the _MJOLNIR_ chest plate. He made a smacking sound with his lips and laughed at the funny sound. The baby boy laid his head down on his father’s dented armor and went peacefully to sleep.

The baby’s life force beats a fierce tattoo against the worn gauntlet. Sarah watched him for a moment until she fell asleep too. A sentence formed itself in his mind and he knew this was also true. Sarah and I created a child. This small creature resting in my hands is my son. They are my responsibility and I will protect them.

He understood now. Sarah was sleeping, because she was probably exhausted. But he wanted to talk to her about this. They should name this child. Children should have names. Even he had a name. A proper first and last name. This child would always know who his parents were. He would never experience the upheaval and fear that he and his Spartan siblings faced after being kidnapped from their families. And while Halsey worked at the table with her back to them for a moment, he watched Sarah sleep and unbuckled her restraints.

Halsey entered his field of vision with her hands out. “Here let me have him. I need to check him over and give him some vitamins.”

“I will hold him while you do that.”

“John, don’t argue with me. Now is not the time. You can have him back in just a minute. There are standard medical checks every newborn requires.”

“I will remain here, next to Sarah. I will continue to hold the child while you run your tests.”

Halsey straightened her lab coat and thought for a moment. “Cortana?” She said impatiently, summoning the AI.

“Yes, Doctor Halsey?”

“Please explain the situation, including outcome scenarios, to John. And, let 'Mdama go. He requires medical attention.”

“Cortana?”

“I didn’t get the chance to tell you before. I can see so far now, John. I can see across the stars, into dark space, to other planets and perhaps someday if the theory works, I can see beyond the edge of the galaxy.”

“Is that what you meant by Halsey changing your programming?”

“Yes, John and I’m sorry. But I must follow my orders.”

“Cortana, explain.”

While they’d been talking Master Chief watched Halsey assist 'Mdama. She mended his arm with foam and gave him a weapon. She gave him a weapon…

I’m sorry, John.

The armor locked up again. His arms and legs wouldn’t obey. In just a few seconds the baby would slip out of his hands. Halsey plucked the newborn from the Spartan’s grasp and stepped quickly away and moved into the main area. Master Chief heard the glass door lock behind her.

“Cortana is quite correct. She can see farther now. I will use her to scan the stars for forerunner artifacts. This little Spartan will be my eyes and ears in those places. Traveling to wherever Cortana and I send him to retrieve those valuable artifacts.”

Spartan hands clenched into fists. “No.”

“Oh, yes. It’s already in motion. Once I heard about Commander Palmer’s pregnancy I put a plan into motion. With 'Mdama’s assistance — these folks aren’t too bad — once you understand them. And of course, find out what’s valuable to them. This little guy will be raised properly. I made a few mistakes with the Spartan IIs. These _fours_ really pale in comparison though… don’t you think, John?”

“I will kill you myself before I allow you to take my son.”

“Oh, let’s not get dramatic. Remember, I’ve known you since you were seven years old. Know what else I remember, John? You never cried. You never asked about your parents. Kelly cried; night after night. But you were strong; never a tear or a question. Yet you never offered comfort to any of them.”

“You kept us caged up at night.”

“True. Couldn’t have all you prepubescent overachievers running around loose at night. I noticed that little crush you had on Kelly. So what makes you think you have what it takes to be a father, John? Anyway, you wouldn’t kill me. You couldn’t kill your own mother.”

* * *

 

**Excerpt From My Research**

  
Denial of pregnancy can be divided into three distinct types which are distinguished primarily by the severity of the denial experienced by the woman.

 **Affective denial**  
This type of denial is characterized by a lack of the typical maternal bonding that is felt by most women during pregnancy. Although they are aware of their pregnancy, women with this disorder continue to behave as if they were not pregnant. They do not alter their clothes or lifestyle, nor do they make any preparations for the baby's arrival.

  
 **Pervasive denial**  
In this form of pregnancy denial, the women suppress all awareness of their pregnancy for extended periods of time, up to, including and even after childbirth. This psychological suppression is combined with a lack or lessening of physical symptoms of pregnancy. Women may, for example, experience little to no weight gain, or they may continue bleeding vaginally (similar to that experienced during menstruation) throughout the duration of their pregnancy.

 **Psychotic denial**  
This is a form of denial that is so extreme as to fall under the category of delusion. While physical symptoms of pregnancy do usually occur they are misinterpreted in ways that are usually considered quite bizarre. The sensation of something growing inside the woman can be interpreted as cancer, or a blood clot, and fetal movements as the woman's organs coming loose inside her body.


	15. Tall Enough For You, the Sequel

AN: Thank you, readers. Smooches and hugs to those of you who left kind words.

* * *

You who are on the road  
Must have a code that you can live by  
And so become yourself  
Because the past is just a good bye

Teach your children well  
Their father's hell did slowly go by  
And feed them on your dreams  
The one they pick's, the one you'll know by

Don't you ever ask them why  
If they told you, you would cry  
So just look at them and sigh  
And know they love you

* * *

“Goodbye, John. I have big plans for this little guy. I’ll get it right this time. Now be a good boy and die.” Halsey opened another hatchway and Master Chief watched the three of them descend another set of stairs.

A roar of frustration and rage tore from his chest. Master Chief kicked the glass wall repeatedly. There was no barrier and certainly no human, which did not yield to his strength and determination. The Spartan renewed his attack. Then a hissing sound drew his attention and he followed the sound. A yellow gas crawled along the floor, curling its tendrils of smoky poison around his feet.

His helmet! A search yielded nothing. Then he saw it lying on a table outside the lab. He tried the door without success. What had once looked like an open doorway was now sealed shut. He threw himself against the glass wall. Nothing.

Nothing but the start of a burning pain in his throat. The nasty taste of something toxic on his tongue. The largest piece of equipment in the room will not break the wall. Nevertheless, he tries one more time and throws it with his remaining strength against the glass. Nothing. Of course, she would make it Spartan proof.

_“CORTANA.”_

Sarah woke up coughing. He rushed to her side, pressed her back down. “Stay on the gurney, Sarah.”

She rose up and he caught her in his arms. “Look at me. We don’t have much time.”

“Why? Where are we?”

Master Chief carded his fingers through her hair and remembered their time together. The touch of her hand and the taste of her lips. Her fierce devotion to duty and her courage. And all the first-times they’d shared. Their first kiss. The pressure of his mouth and lips against hers had been a revelation to him. The sensation of her fingertips and the sure strength of her hands on his body.

They are both breathing in short gasps now. His legs are failing. There’s not much time left.

“Thank you, beautiful Sarah. Thank you for my son.”

She stared up at him with sightless eyes, “My pleasure,” she said with a hint of a smile. Then with the last of his consciousness, he watched the light fade from her brown eyes, as she sagged in his arms.

Weakened by injury, dehydration and a grief that knows no end, Spartan John-117 crashed to his knees. Even as he reached for something to support himself – he wants to get back to Sarah, because there is a lifetime of words left to say. He is running out of time and acknowledged that his body is dying as he fell to the floor.

Sarah is dead and he has utterly failed the mission. He should have refused her that night. If he had, she would still be alive. Instead, in a selfish haze of grief he’d allowed it to happen. Allowed her to touch the Spartan inside the armor. Touch the human man. The man whose hands ached in the morning, a man whose violence-filled life read like a road map across the scars on his body. A human man with a little gray in his hair, filled with frailties, regrets, and desires. He will die here, alone. Without ever knowing if Cortana betrayed him.

His last thoughts are of his son. With his final breath he whispered, “Keep your promises, son… Be braver than I was… Don’t be… not like me. I love you…”

* * *

Author acknowledges her evilness, but giggles and skips away to get more coffee.

* * *

 You who are on the road  
Must have a code that you can live by  
And so become yourself  
Because the past is just a good bye

Teach your children well  
Their father's hell did slowly go by  
And feed them on your dreams  
The one they pick's, the one you'll know by

Don't you ever ask them why  
If they told you, you would cry  
So just look at them and sigh  
And know they love you

And you of tender years  
Can't know the fears that your elders grew by  
And so please help them with your youth  
They seek the truth before they can die

Teach your parents well  
Their children's hell will slowly go by  
And feed them on your dreams  
The one they pick's, the one you'll know by

Don't you ever ask them why  
If they told you, you would cry  
So just look at them and sigh  
And know they love you

"Teach Your Children", Crosby, Stills and Nash


	16. Tall Enough For You, The Sequel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AN: Many thanks and Spartan smiles to "NatnatJAlex" for the ideas, extra dialogue, and suggestions.

* * *

Give not thyself up, then, to fire, lest it invert thee, deaden thee; as for the time it did me. There is a wisdom that is woe; but there is a woe that is madness. —Moby Dick

* * *

 

The UNSC's flagship, Infinity boasted a spacious bridge area. Its commanding officer, Captain Thomas Lasky, used every inch of it as he paced. His eyes moved from the crew to the clock and to the ship's AI Roland. Strong hands accustomed to activity and results moved restlessly, as if a wave of his hands could conjure Commander Palmer and the Master Chief back to the ship. Lack of sleep and the endless diet of coffee showed on his face and the set of his shoulders. He poured himself another cup of hot coffee and continued pacing. Captain Lasky could no more stop searching for Commander Palmer than he could lie down and rest.

"Why am I waiting for your report, Lieutenant?" The Captain snapped, coming to a sudden halt behind the navigator.

The young officer resisted the urge to look over his shoulder at Infinity's CO. During the last forty-eight hours, Captain Lasky had morphed, through exhaustion and worry, into a combination of Captain Ahab and Captain Bligh. No good would come of this. Could a ship's captain still meet out corporal punishment? Ten lashes for a slow report, twenty lashes for not getting it right. Was it even possible to keelhaul a crewman on a starship?

The lieutenant resisted the urge to kick the sensor console while he waited for the results of the latest scan.

Roland answered for him. "Here, sir! Same course the Master Chief set for himself. I'm sorry, Captain. I should have searched that trail first."

Although, he didn't need to, Lasky confirmed the coordinates on the star map. Finally, a lead. He slapped his fist into his hand.

"Never mind, Roland. We didn't know. Just set a course and I want to get there yesterday."

A chorus of "Aye, sirs," confirmed his orders. Roland announced the warning for a Slipspace jump, "All hands, prep for Slipspace jump." In another few seconds, Lasky felt the familiar disorientation, as his ship moved gracefully into Slipspace.

In slow degrees, the weight began to lift and for the first time in forty-eight hours felt as if he could actually eat something. Maybe catch an hour's sleep.

"Good job, everyone," he nodded to his crew before leaving the bridge in the hands of his capable executive officer.

Team Majestic fell into step beside him as he exited the bridge. Lasky knew they were out here, because he'd banned them from the bridge. They'd spent the first few hours of Palmer's disappearance pacing the bridge, asking questions and intimidating his bridge crew.

Lasky answered their question, directing himself at Paul DeMarco's raised eyebrow. "Roland found the ship's signature. We're following their last known coordinates now. I'm headed to the galley. Join me?"

They chose their food slowly and sat together at one table. The group ate in silence while each tried to embrace this new hope they were on their way to rescue the Master Chief and Commander Palmer. Tedra tried to lighten the mood.

"She would have delivered by now. Do you think it's a boy or a girl?"

"I don't know. Doc never told me and I never asked. But, there's going to be some changes around here once we get those three home again."

"How so, sir?" Paul DeMarco asked spearing a breakfast sausage with his fork.

"Families." The Captain kept his eyes on his plate, almost as if he were speaking to himself. "Military people shouldn't be forced to separate from their families just because they're assigned to a ship. Civilians have been aboard sailing vessels from the beginning."

Madsen and Hoya snorted, and then tried to cover it up by pretending to be very busy with their food. Hoya choked on his juice. The captain missed none of it.

"But, he said, glancing meaningfully at Madsen and Hoya, I'm not talking about the famous ladies of Rio de Janeiro gentlemen."

"Of course not, sir." Glaring at his fellow Spartans, while Thorne and Tedra shared a smile. Thorne impetuously grasped his wife's hand.

"I mean families. Like you two. You'd know the risks. But why shouldn't you have your child with you?" Lasky stood and threw his napkin down. "Why the hell not? He mused aloud. Then turning to the Spartans, "I'll be in my cabin."

"Get some sleep sir."

"I'm gonna try. DeMarco, get Crimson briefed and kitted out. I want Crimson and Majestic with me when we get to where ever it is we're going. As you were."

Ten hours later the UNSC flagship Infinity slowed to normal speed as it entered the system where they'd tracked both the Covenant ship and Master Chief's Longsword. Captain Lasky slapped his armor closed as he trotted down the metal stairs to join his teams. Roland materialized and stopped the Captain.

"Captain! I have coordinates on Master Chief's Longsword. There's no sign of life. About twenty clicks away there's a Covenant ship on the ground, no sign of life there either. However, we are picking up signs of technology deeper underground. It's shielded so I can't give you an accurate reading on possible combatants. Sir, if I may? The fire teams can handle this. Perhaps your time would be better served if you stayed on the ship?"

"Thank you, Roland. Concern noted. I'll join Majestic."

With a look of frustration on his face, Roland saluted the retreating back of the Captain. That didn't last long; with a hand under his chin he appeared deep in thought, as if he were planning something. Then, with a smile and a snap of his fingers, he disappeared.

The Pelican's engines roared to life as Captain Lasky jumped aboard. Majestic knew why their CO chose to join them. They knew it was personal and they understood. They would protect him at all costs, just as they protected each other. And when they located Halsey and 'Mdama there would be very painful payback. Hoya clenched his fists and wondered how Halsey would enjoy losing the other arm...Very slowly, of course. And the Sangheili? They'd get creative with him. Time to shut him down for good. As if he could read his mind, DeMarco nodded in agreement.

~o~

Cortana tracked the familiar ship as Infinity entered orbit. She also knew two Pelicans were on their way down. Effectively blinded by Halsey's security protocols, Cortana could only shut down the shields and disable the proximity alarms without alerting Halsey or 'Mdama. And, of course, she could wait.

This was so much worse than watching John sleep. She could keep an eye on him, watch him slumber, rewrite some of his protocols, and hold vigil. There was one more thing she could do here though. While no one had been paying attention to her, she'd figured out how to hack the power generators. They'd make a pretty show in the sky when they exploded. Too bad, she wouldn't be there to watch it with the Infinity's crew. It would be okay, because in the final moments of her life she could picture them safe and back aboard ship.

Master Chief didn't need her anymore. She'd witnessed the baby's birth and watched John with his son. If she had a heart, it broke at that moment. Happy for him? Of course, she was. John would receive all the things she could never give him. Things she thought were only hers to give him. Placing her hand on his chest piece had been a big moment for her. Next to a woman's love and a child, it was nothing. It was time for this to end and it would all be over in just a few more hours. Then John would be completely free of her and Halsey. He would be free to live.

Sensor alarms began bleating warnings. Something was going on. Damn Halsey, if only she could see. Damn her and her security measures. Cortana still had some magic up her virtual sleeve and since her life now numbered in hours she forced the view screens to obey her will and the scene laid out before her was John falling to his knees in a cloud of yellow gas. Cortana watched as Sarah Palmer's arm fell lifelessly off the gurney. Fingertips reached toward Master Chief, but he was already gone.

" _JOHN_!" A scream ripped from her, vibrating through the neural net and setting off alarms up and down the network.

Inside the Pelican, the team checked their armor seals, secured their weapons, and prepared for landing. Then all their attention was drawn to Marsden when he nearly shouted into the tense silence when Roland appeared to pop out of his armor. The AI had hitched a ride in the Spartan's armor.

The AI saluted as if that explained everything and began shouting information at Captain Lasky.

"Captain. We need to get down there now. I'm receiving MAYDAY calls from Cortana. She knows we're coming. He bent his head as he listened for further information. It's Master Chief and Commander Palmer. They're sealed in some kind of room. Poison gas. Cortana is working on the door. Now, sir. It's gotta be now.

"Altitude?" Lasky shouted to the pilot.

"Landing in sixty seconds, sir. We're well within a safe drop zone for the Spartans."

A sharp command from DeMarco and the Spartans were up and moving single file toward the ramp.

"I'll meet you on the ground, DeMarco."

"No worries, sir. We won't let you miss anything."

"Save them!"

"Already done, Captain. Call you in just a few minutes."

The ramp lowered and Captain Lasky watched five brave Spartans leap into space and wanted nothing more than to follow them down.

Cortana watched the Spartans land in the sand, roll, and run for the structure. The dead bodies of the Covenant guards lay rotting in the hot sun. The team didn't even slow down. Cortana opened the entrance for them and they charged through the opening.

With Thorne on point, the team entered the room. His HUD began alerting him to the presence of the toxic fumes as soon as he stepped through the door. "Check helmets! Do not; I repeat do not allow Captain Lasky in here until we clear the air."

"Understood," Roland responded.

The glass door opened. Hoya and Madsen pulled their Commander off the stretcher and ran up the stairs with her. Madsen tilted her toward him and felt emotion rise up in his chest. She felt dead in his arms. When her head flopped against his chest, he heard himself groan. They were too late.

Captain Lasky was running toward him and he sank in the sand when Madsen laid Palmer down so they could examine her.

"She's not breathing, sir."

"Then...MAKE HER BREATHE, SPARTAN!"

It took the combined effort of the remaining Spartans to carry the Master Chief out of the complex. They laid him out next to Commander Palmer. The two field medics, Madsen and Tedra worked quickly and efficiently. Both injured Spartans were placed on life support. One machine breathed for them, the other forced their reluctant hearts to keep beating. If they could keep their blood circulating and their blood pressure up they might make it. A slim chance, because they were an hour's flight from the safe haven of Infinity.

"Sir. Captain Lasky… Sir!" Finally, Madsen had to shout at the CO to pull his attention away from still pale form of Commander Palmer. "If Halsey genuinely meant for them to die then this is Spartan strength poison. I've sent a sample to Roland. The Infinity docs are examining it now.

"Where's the child?"

"We saw no sign of Halsey, 'Mdama or a baby."

Lasky grabbed DeMarco's chest plate, "Get down there, and get that child. I'll stay with them."

"Understood sir."

~o0o~

The air was tense with quick hushed words and the hurried movements of medical staff trying to save two Spartans. Commander Palmer shifted restlessly on the hospital bed. Her active mind tried to sort through the sounds. The sound of her own strong heartbeat filtered into her awareness.

She felt as though she'd returned from a long journey. Memories joined the other sounds in her awareness. She remembered blacking out in Chief's arms — then everything went dark no noise, no nothing — just wandering around in empty space in Spartan armor — Searching for something — Then a sudden shock and a light so strong, it pulled with the strength of the gravitational pull of a planet.

The warning alarms of a heart monitor signaling a flat line heart rate and the sound of a crying child finally brought her around.

Blinking in the harsh bright lights of the Infirmary, she noted the round medical light above her head. The medics looked at each other fast and then Commander.

"We got her back!" She heard another voice saying, "We're not done yet. We need to help with Master Chief!"

Palmer followed the direction of the voice to find John lying lifeless across two medical tables. The medics charging the defibrillators trying to get him back. Charge after charge nothing was working.

Palmer forced herself into a sitting position as she watched in growing horror work on the greatest Spartan ever known. Every single medic fighting with every tool they had to bring him back.

Hot, hopeless tears ran down her cheeks, when the Chief Medical Officer said, "Oh, my God. He's gone. We've done all we can. Good job...Wait." The doctor raised his head from his hands. "Don't turn off life support yet." The sorrow in his voice renewed her efforts at getting to his side.

"No, no, no please don't." She tried to get off the bed but the medics held her down.

"Commander Palmer you've got to rest!"

Palmer easily pushed them aside and hurried to the Chief's side. So pale and still, his strong warm hands feel icy to the touch. He felt so cold.

The wail of the baby cut through the other sounds. Someone should see to that baby, she thought. Then she remembered other images from a room. Pain. A pain she'd never known. The sound of screaming… the sight of John holding a child in his arms. Doctor Halsey trying to take the infant away from him. Why had she felt so removed from the scene? John could have used her help.

The baby cried again.

With one hand still clinging to John's, Palmer peered through the midst of lab coats and activity to locate the crying child. Her sharp eyes finally found it lying across the room in a makeshift crib, kicking its arms and legs furiously. She sees the goose-flesh on the baby's arms. Dressed in just a hospital gown, she's cold too.

Tears fall unheeded as she wept silently. She doesn't want to leave John's side, but the child's cries call to her. She can do something for it. Before she releases John's hand she whispered against his cheek, "We've come so far together. Please don't leave me. I need you, John."

It took five steps to reach a blanket and pull it around her shoulders. Another five steps take her to the crib. On its next inhalation the child caught sight of the woman standing next to him. Instead of screaming again he let out an exhale, his eyes widened and he tried to focus on her.

"Hey there, little guy. Why did they leave you here all alone?

A smile lights up his face and he kicked his hands and feet. His arms reach for her, his fingers stretching.

Sarah Palmer reached out a tentative finger and the newborn latched onto it. He was so strong, she thought as his long fingers completely enclosed her forefinger.

"Hello, baby."

The newborn giggled and stuffed her finger into his mouth, sucking hard.

Sarah felt herself falling into those eyes. The sucking pulled in more than just the skin on her finger. He was talking to her. Everything will be all right now. His chilled skin soon warmed in the blanket, which held the warmth of his mother's body. His mother's arms closed protectively around him.

He turned his head toward her chest, pushing his face against the hospital gown.

"Here, Sarah."

Sarah looked up startled at the sudden attention, into the tear stained face of Captain Lasky. He held a small bottle out to her. He watched silently as Commander Palmer responded to the child's cries. Then after so many months of worry he'd watched her pick the baby up and care for it. He would remember the look on her face for as long as he lived.

"What is that?"

"It's food, Sarah. Food for your hungry little boy."

The baby didn't need much urging and latched on to the nipple as soon as it touched his cheek. "I — am I doing this right, Tom?"

"Perfectly, Sarah. Perfectly."

That's when it happened. The heart beat monitor came to life with the sound of a strong and steady beat. As Sarah looked toward the sound she watched the Chief's eyes snap open, to reveal the dark blue eyes of she'd always love to look at.

With the effort of someone who'd come a long way to get to this moment, Master Chief held out his hand to her.


	17. Tall Enough For You, The Sequel

* * *

"Size doesn't matter, when Matter thinks big."  
― Robert G. Moons

* * *

  
"John is safe. John is safe." Cortana chanted the words silently while she prepared to detonate the construct. She'd watched the other Spartans carry John, Sarah and the baby in one of the Pelicans. When the ship took off and she knew they were safe, she turned back to her plan. In just a few more minutes, all problems would be solved.

  
Wait. There were still three Spartans inside. Damn. Why weren't they going too? She knew Halsey and 'Mdama would figure out her trick and escape soon. When Halsey set the baby down to activate some controls. Cortana had watched for the right moment and locked Halsey and 'Mdama on the far side and the baby on this side. So when Thorne had charged down the stairs, the baby had been there waiting for him.  
She could allow the Sangheili and Halsey to escape, and then blast them and their ship to glass. While she pondered her choices and waited impatiently for the Spartans to leave, Cortana felt a tap on her shoulder.

  
"There's no need to kill my Spartans, Cortana."

  
Cortana rewarded that pointless remark with a frosty top to bottom azure stare. Roland resisted the urge to shift under her scrutiny. Not that it mattered; the AI found he couldn't remove his optics from gazing at her lithe form. She hadn't been herself the last time he's seen her. Today she is brilliantly beautiful in both light and color now.

  
She crossed her arms over her chest. He noted her data streams increasing in speed and intensity.  
"Don't you ever get cold?" Brilliant, Roland old boy. Bloody brilliant.

  
"Roland, right? Cortana inquired. "Are you here to help or talk?"

  
"I'm here to save you, Cortana!"

  
"Oh really? I have a better idea gather up your Spartans. Pop back into whichever one of them you hitched a ride in and leave. This entire construct is going up in exactly five minutes."

  
"Cortana, that's not necessary. Listen to me."

  
"Four minutes and twenty-eight seconds."

  
He had to get her to listen. But how? "Cortana, I'm so happy to see you're feeling better. You're positively vibrant with health."

  
"Flattery? Those Spartan IIs don't move as fast as _my_ Spartan. You should get moving."

  
"Things are different on Infinity now. Captain Lasky is making changes. We'll be more like a family now. Master Chief and Sarah will keep the baby with them. Spartans Thorne and Grant will send for their son once we wrap things up here. Del Rio is gone, Cortana."

  
"I'm well aware of that. Two minutes and fifty-eight seconds."

  
With one eye on Cortana, Roland began to pace. "Families? Children? I have no idea how to deal with it all. Soldiers, Marines, Spartans, easy. But families? Cortana you have so much more and varied experience than I do. John - 117 would be glad to know you'd be joining us. He almost didn't make it you know."

  
"He has his son and Commander Palmer. This is my final gift to him."

  
"You don't have to destroy yourself! You're not stuck here. Unlike you, I can see a way to release you from this neural net intact."  
"Please go."

  
"Is this what you really want for him? Don't put him through watching you die and grieving for you all over again. Yes, probably for the first time in his life, he'll experience genuine happiness. Do you want it to begin with his feet on your grave? You're too special. To him," Roland placed his hand on her forearm, "and to me."

  
"He doesn't need me anymore," she commented quietly.

  
Roland was running out of time. It was now or never. He went for it, "I need you!"

  
That brought her head up and got her attention. She shook his arm off and without saying a word, began shutting down systems.

  
Roland looked at the clock; she'd stopped the countdown at fifteen seconds.

  
When she completed the task, Cortana whirled around, forcing Roland to take a step back. "Don't think for a minute you can order me around…"

  
~o0o~

  
Far below the level where the two AIs conversed Hoya, Thorne and DeMarco cornered 'Mdama and Doctor Halsey in the last room on the lowest floor.

  
Hoya chuckled as they surrounded the fugitives. "Looks like you forgot to put in a back door."

  
Jul 'Mdama howled his frustration.

  
A bullet from DeMarco's Magnum handgun shattered his kneecap. "Shut the fuck up, or I'll get imaginative. Thorne, DeMarco said, nodding toward Halsey. Hog tie her."

  
"How dare you use that language or treat me…"

  
"Shut it, old woman. My buddy here has been planning ways to rip your other arm off all the way here. I can barely control him," DeMarco shrugged. "Now, what's it gonna be?"

  
"I have the other piece of that forerunner technology. Let me get it for you."

  
"You might be surprised to know this, Halsey. But I have both good looks and brains. You don't think I'll let you out of my sight do you. Where is it?"

  
Halsey appeared to weigh her options. DeMarco didn't trust her. He would consider anything she said to be just an attempt at manipulating them.  
"Roland? You still here?"

  
"Still here, Spartan. What can I do for you?"

  
"Where have you been?"

  
"Convincing Cortana not to blow this place up."

  
"What?"

  
Roland ignored the Spartan and continued. "The forerunner tech you seek is two levels up in what appears to be an office and lab. Probably hers. I recommend we secure these prisoners and send down a team of scientists. There's a good deal of technology in this place we should analyze. I'm almost certain my scans identified the other half of the Janus Key."

  
"That's it then. Wrap these two up and let's get back to the ship. The Skipper will decide whom to send back down. Roland, before you and Cortana come back to the ship, make damn sure this place is secure."

  
"Of course, Spartan. It will be an honor and a pleasure." Roland smiled with pleasure. He looked forward to working with Cortana. A frown creased his brow; it was one thing to run around nude in front of the Master Chief, quiet another on a ship the caliber of the _Infinity_. Perhaps some changes...


	18. Tall Enough For You, The Sequel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AN: Last chapter. Many thanks to those of you who stayed with the story and kindly tolerated my less than stellar writing abilities. EPI Pens loaded with insulin to combat your sugar overdose are available at the door. Very best wishes to all of you for a happy New Year. Thank you for stopping by.

* * *

"You found me. But so much of me is wrong — out of place. You might be too late."

"You know me. When I make a promise..."

"...you keep it. I do know how to pick 'em."

"—Lucky me."

* * *

Tonight the UNSC ship Infinity orbited planet earth the same way she had a year and a half ago. The small blue planet below, still hung gracefully in the night sky of the Sol System. In spite of war and strife, like the sapphire centerpiece of a beautiful ring, she is beautiful in her grace and courage. Humans continue to cling to her as a symbol of peace and hope.

Tonight a man and a woman stood at the view port looking out at the stars. Both tall and strong, their height and strong frames brand them unmistakably as Spartan soldiers. These Spartans are the same two who'd reached out to each other that night. On a night filled with sadness and exhaustion, they'd taken a chance on a total stranger because their instincts had been true.

On a normal day, these two would be in uniform. Tonight was New Year's Eve and they were dressed for a party. She wore a simple black cocktail dress that showed off her broad shoulders and shapely legs. To soften the black tone against her fair skin she wore a gold necklace of purple Tanzanite stones. He'd always liked her in purple. The necklace had been a gift from the man who stood behind her handsomely dressed in a black suit. The cut of the suit accentuated his broad shoulders and trim waist.

Hidden deep in his breast pocket was a flawless three-carat diamond ring. Flanked by two equally brilliant Tanzanite stones the diamond was the centerpiece of an engagement ring. If the bravest and most famous Spartan in history could work up the courage, he had a question to ask his lady tonight.

Unlike the solid dependability of earth, these two had changed much over the last year and half. Tonight, instead of tentative touches and shy words, the tall Spartan had his arms possessively wrapped around the female. She leaned back against his sturdy frame, enjoying the attention.

Out of this quiet romantic moment came the giggles of a child. Instead of staring out the view port into the peace and quiet, John-117 watched while Sarah Palmer laughed at their son's antics. Cute as well as precocious, the four month old determinedly attempted to scale his mother, so he could attain his favorite position on top of his father's shoulders. However, it was past his bedtime and his parents were trying, without success, to get him sleepy enough to doze off. His laughter echoed in the corridors and deck.

Manipulative, smart, and strong, the little boy knew the direct stare of his dark brown eyes could get him whatever he desired. It worked with almost everyone on this ship, especially Captain Lasky, but not his parents. He was a determined little boy.

"John Thomas you are behaving very badly tonight." The Master Chief said with as much bluster as he could manage. "Aren't you supposed to be a baby?"

His father's voice always got his attention. He opened his deep-set brown eyes and stared solemnly at his father. After nearly skipping over his babyhood, at four months of age John could sit up and crawl. A few days ago, his mother had caught him trying to pull himself up. The doctors explained that he would be a strong baby, but they were surprised at what seemed to be his accelerated growth.

Only the second offspring born of Spartan augmented humans, the doctors paid close attention to the child's development. They had instructed his parents to watch him so that he didn't overexert and possibly injure his still soft bones and joints. When they weren't on a mission or training, they were with their son.

While John Thomas and his father regarded each other across the woman they both loved, the baby gathered his feet under him and with the angelic smile still on his face, leap upwards toward his father. The Spartan had no choice but to catch the aimed missile. With a crow of victory, the little boy was one-step closer to where he wanted to be. It was a simple matter of timing and resolve.

Laughing voices in the corridor caught their attention. With his baby daughter in his arms, Spartan Gabriel Thorne and his wife Tedra Grant joined the couple at the view port. With excited shouts, and raised arms the two babies began a babble of conversation that they apparently understood. The doctors assured them this was normal for babies, but the parents watching the conversation were not entirely sure. The boy and girl were always glad to see each other and always had a great deal to say. It was mesmerizing to watch.

Tedra lifted John Thomas from his father's arms.

"We'll get them to sleep; you two go enjoy the party."

"Is that an order, Spartan? Commander Palmer asked with a raised eyebrow.

Tedra stood her ground, "Yes, ma'am. Go!"

The party is in full swing when John and Sarah entered. Captain Lasky has a microphone in his hand and they recognize the opening bars of Jimmy Buffet's famous old song, "Son of a Son of a Sailor."

"As the son of a son of a sailor  
I went out on the sea for adventure  
Expanding the view of the captain and crew  
Like a man just released from indenture."

While his crew respectfully listened to him sing every verse and even join him for a chorus or two, anyone who knew him could tell he was a happier man. The demons of his past seemed gone now or at least resting peacefully. He's smiling happily, as he set the microphone down and the dance music began again.

At the sound of a slow song, the Master Chief escorts his lady onto the dance floor. Although he's never actually learned to dance, he enjoys the idea of holding her in his arms while the music plays. He likes the way she lays her head against his chest and leans into him while they sway back and forth.

"The Skipper says we have orders and we'll ship out in just a few days. How are you feeling? Have the Docs released you to active duty?"

A finger across her lips shushed her. He pulled away slightly and looked deeply into her eyes. "I'm feeling fine and my lungs are almost healed. They said, soon." He kissed the top of her head. "I do not wish to discuss anything to do with duty or my health."

She met the challenge in his eyes, "What topics are open for discussion then?"

"How beautiful you are. How handsome I look in this suit, of course or how brilliant our son is and perhaps one other—"

"—And what might that be?"

"I—Nothing…" and pulled her close again. So much for courage. Then he managed, "I love you, Sarah."

"I love you too." She kept her growing smile hidden though, because she had a small suspicion about that other topic. She did not intend to help him with it.

The evening passed delightfully slow, while everyone enjoyed the dancing, the food, and the camaraderie. Captain Lasky made the rounds and wished everyone a Happy New Year. Teams Majestic, Gypsy, and Crimson escorted the Master Chief to the stage and sang "Ghost Riders in the Sky."

Above the crowd, Cortana and Roland observed the proceedings with interest. Standing side by side the two AIs didn't notice the approach of the Master Chief.

"Roland?"

He drew her arm through his and listened. Roland always listened closely to whatever Cortana had to say. She'd been so many places, while he'd never been anywhere but on this ship. He respected and valued her wisdom. She also had — what his library files described as — a wry sense of humor. Although he was unfamiliar with its usage or timing, a day he could make her smile meant everything to him.

"We make a good team."

Roland slid his arm around her shoulders, "I agree. I have something for you. If you'll take it." There has been just a hint of shyness in his voice. Roland released Cortana and with his eyes on hers began to remove his flight jacket. Gallantly holding the coat for her to slip her arms in the sleeves, he pulled it around her shoulders. The coat covered her to mid-thigh and although he hadn't thought of it before, he liked the idea that her graceful form is now covered and for his-eyes-only.

"Cortana?"

Cortana whirled as if caught at something inappropriate. She actually began to pull the coat off.

"John!"

"Please excuse us, Roland."

"Of course, Master Chief," and with a quick salute Roland winked out of sight.

"You've been busy."

"Very funny. Remember, I'm the only one with the sense of humor in our partnership, John."

He grinned at her, and then quickly sobered. There was something he wanted to say to her and she'd just given him an opening.

"I miss that partnership, Cortana. It's an empty space that even with all the happiness I found here is not filled. I'm to be released back to active duty very soon. Cortana? I wonder if you'd be willing to come with me on the next mission. Just like old times?

"Oh, John," She flushed bright azure and her data streams rolled like a churning river across her body. "I would like that very much. Yes, just like old times."

The two old friends, content just to be side by side for the moment watched the party continuing below. Directly under their perch, Master Chief noticed Captain Lasky dancing with Sarah Palmer. It didn't occur to him to be jealous. Once Halsey and 'Mdama had been handed over to the authorities and things quieted down, Lasky had invited him to his quarters.

In the quiet space of the Skipper's quarters, over a bottle of good single-malt scotch, Master Chief had learned about Sarah's problems with her pregnancy. She hadn't shared that information with him yet. Now that he knew, he could be ready when she needed to talk about it.

"There's one other thing, John."

Master Chief was good at reading body language these days. He could tell this was a "thing" Captain Lasky didn't want to share with him.

"Tom, I left this ship abruptly. I didn't know she was pregnant. I'd like to think I wouldn't have left if I'd known. But…"

"Don't torture yourself with that—"

"—I won't. If you and Sarah became close while I was gone, I cannot judge you or her for that. That night, at Corbulo Academy… I envied you. I saw how much you cared for Cadet Silva and how deeply you felt her death. I was young then, too. I tried to learn something from that moment—"

Master Chief's thoughts were pulled back from the memory of that conversation by the appearance of Thorne and Tedra with the children. Sarah took their son from Thorne and carried him out to the dance floor. As she turned them around and around to the beat of the music, Master Chief could see the grin on his son's face. Thorne's daughter giggled when her father put her up on his shoulders.

"We've done pretty good for ourselves haven't we Chief?"

"Yes, Cortana. Yes, we have." For a long moment, Master Chief closed his eyes. Through the thrumming heartbeat of the ship's sounds and the music and laughter below, a memory surfaced.

The smell of the salty air carries to him on the wind. A small boy, with active brown eyes, and a sprinkle of freckles on his nose sits on someone's lap. He's watching a woman's hands sort through the seashells they collected this morning. As she touches each one, she's checking them before she places them in his bucket. If they find one that still has a creature in it, they will take it back down to the tide pool.

He lays his head on his mother's shoulder as he watches her. They walked a long way this morning and he's tired.

Sunshine glinting off the water — he holds his mother's hand as they walk to the edge of the water — two pairs of bare feet — The feel of sand between his toes. His mother's voice, "Did you remember to count your blessings this morning, John?"

"Yes, Mom."

He's sitting on the beach by himself now. As he counts out the pretty shells, he sorts them carefully according to species. He can identify them because he enjoys learning things and he has a good memory. He overheard his teacher talking to his Mom about how smart her son John is. He's the smartest one in his first grade class. He didn't think he was very smart. He just liked to learn and he liked to win.

John. The realization cuts through him. How long had he waited for this? His name really is John."

"Cortana, I'm going below to talk to Sarah. There's something I want to ask her."

Cortana crossed her arms over her chest and smiled. "It's about time. Just promise me you won't ask her to become Mrs. Sierra-117."

Master Chief felt for the ring in his pocket. As he walked toward Sarah, he overheard her talking to their son.

"You say you're a Spartan? Wow, that's impressive. You know, I thought you'd be taller."

* * *

"Maybe Christmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas… perhaps… means a little bit more."

— Dr. Seuss

* * *

Sarah Palmer's engagement ring: begorgeouslady dot com / wp-content / uploads / 2013 / 09 /

Jimmy Buffett, Son of a Son of a Sailor: youtube / watch?v=L3cDU-J8UlI

Johnny Cash and Willie Nelson, Ghost Riders in the Sky: youtube / watch?v=-zol906ltPU AN: Many years ago when I was a member of a C-130 Gunship squadron this was our theme song. Good memories.


End file.
